Vash vs Spike
by Compulsive Writer
Summary: Concept of Vash vs. Spike developed as a RPG at with compliments to Sadistic Storyteller. Rated R for strong violence, language, sexuality, and cruelty.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE: change of heart

They moved quickly, three hundred identical, genetically altered soldiers draped in black armor, yellow hair cropped very short, eyes covered by a thin, black shields. Each man was precisely six feet six inches tall, weighing two hundred thirteen pounds three ounces. Over each left shoulder hung a rifle equipped with a laser site and scope. At each right hip, a black pistol was strapped into a black, leather holster. The massive army surrounded the colossal hull of the alien spacecraft in a matter of minutes.

Two soldiers slipped through the entrance, led by a man in a red coat with yellow hair slicked up into a spike, yellow sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His left arm had long ago been replaced by a prosthetic limb.

The man stalked through the ship as if he knew where he was headed, and his men followed. The three of them made good time through the dark, twisted corridors. Finally, the came to the lone place within the massive, metal fortress granted power by the great generator. Light flooded the brig command center, though none of the consoles appeared to be operable.

"I go alone from here," said the man in red, and left the two alone.

He stalked the last corridor of his mission, came to cell where he knew the target waited, and pressed his right palm against the identification scanner.

"Identification confirmed," droned a computerized voice. "Welcome, Vash."

The man smirked as the door slid open to reveal a small, darkened chamber. Another man stood across from him in an armored casket sealed shut by the power of the ship's generator. The only visible portion of his body from within the mass of metal was his face.

The man in the casket squinted, peering to the silhouette in the cell's doorway. "V…Vash? Is that you?"

What luck. He was awake.

The man in red strolled over to his target. He eyed the man with a smirk.

"What are you doing here? I didn't think you'd be back for awhile."

The gunman shrugged. "Had a change of heart."

The other peered at him, skeptical. "Change of heart?"

"Yeah, Knives. That's about right. I decided you were too big of a pain in the ass to leave locked away like this. It only means I'll have to come back and check on you all the time. It's a little irritating, ya know? Decided I didn't want to worry about it."

"So…what next?"

"Oh, I thought you and I could just take a moment to settle an old score."

The man in the casket closed his eyes. "I always thought it had to happen. Maybe I was wrong. Hard to say, but it felt right at the time."

"Yeah, I suppose it would."

With that, the man in red drew his sidearm. He took a step closer to his target and aimed the weapon. He waited for the other to open his eyes. He wanted to see the look on the other's face before the trigger was pulled. He wanted the knowledge that Vash the Stampede had been his executioner to be the last thought that swept through his brain, just before the bullet joined it.

The target soon opened his eyes. They widened in shock at seeing a gun barrel only three feet from his face. Soon, his surprise shock faded and he relaxed. "So this is how it must be."

"Yeah. I guess so."

The crack of a gunshot echoed through the titanium fortress. The bullet tore through the target's right eye and exploded through the back of his head in a shower of blood and bone and brains. The metal casket protected the room from the spray of crimson, which would ooze down and eventually soak the fresh corpse in its own gore.

The very thought gave the man in red something to smile about.

----------

Quinn struggled into his clothes after Ariel summoned him, cursing every little nagging moment as he stumbled his way through the darkness of his room. It was the middle of the night, and Quinn _hated_ being disturbed any time before the break of day. Throwing on his jacket, the old scientist stepped out of the clay hut and headed east along the ruins of the lost city.

As he started across the compound, he finished strapping into his leather vest. Fishing through his pocket for a cigarette, Quinn took a moment to glance up to the blanket of stars that covered the night sky. Two glowing orbs, the second and fifth moons of Gunsmoke, hung in the darkness. He lit the smoke and watched a puff of smoke fade into the darkness around him.

He had been here for nearly two years now, monitoring the progress of his steadily growing army. The existence of the city had been a well-kept secret for more than a hundred thirty years, a secret kept to this day by the remnants of the Gung-Ho Guns. It was the perfect place to build an army of thousands. From the beginning it had been a gigantic pain in the ass, but as Morgante had promised, things were running relatively smoothly, considering the difficulties brought on by Legato and the nut job he had served for nearly a quarter of a century. Besides, it wasn't as though they were being forced to feed thousands, as they had back on the old world.

Quinn grunted; the world was silent save for his own private rants. He finished his cigarette and continued on to the command center. The whole of the compound glowed faintly in the pale moonlight. Soon, he stepped through the doorway and into the command center, where he was immediately greeted by one of his men, a young gunman by the name of Henry Starks. The boy gave him an apologetic look.

"What's going on, Henry?" Quinn asked.

"I was hoping you might be able to tell me," Starks replied, towering over the old man. He shoved his hands into his pockets and peered silently about the chamber. "They called me, not vice versa." He turned his attention to the array of computer consoles at the front of the room, where his ragtag gang was hard at work. "I wish they'd get it over with. We have to be up early as is."

Quinn grunted. "Well, it'd better be damn good or heads will roll. Where's Ariel?"

"Hard at it, I suspect. As usual." Starks glanced back as a door opened, and a girl in red entered, flanked by a pair of tall blond twins with narrow shields over their eyes. Every curve of her slender figure was accentuated by blood-red leather, fitted tight against her slender form. Long, golden hair was pulled back into a neat braid, which hung daintily over her right shoulder. "And speak of the devil."

Quinn crossed his arms. "So?"

Ariel smirked. She enjoyed pestering the old man, and never made an attempt to hide her amusement. "I've received word from Bane," she said slowly. "He has been to see Knives."

The old man's brow arched in surprise. "Knives? This soon? You're certain?"

"Positive."

"He's done the job, then."

Ariel nodded. "Quite efficiently."

Quinn closed his eyes. Phase one, then, was under wraps. He chuckled quietly as the others watched him. The twins, towering male clones identical to the other soldiers within his genetically enhanced army, stood at attention, bore no obvious emotional reactions to the situation. Ariel, however, let a taut smirk slide across her lips. At the same time, a knowing grin revealed Starks' perfect teeth. Quinn didn't blame them. It had taken damn near five years to fully evade Knives' life-altering plans. To have finally avoided the "inevitable", as Knives called it, was worthy of celebration.

The old man reached out and put a hand to Ariel's arm, giving her an approving nod. She'd done her job precisely, as always, and he was proud of her. If only all of his help had been so efficient as her and her partner Bane. A smirk touched his lips and he touched her arm gently.

"Good," he whispered. "Very good, Ariel. You and your brother have proven your worth." _Unlike some others who have been paid very well,_ he thought to himself. No need to voice his disapproval over some of his help. At the moment they were not really causing any harm. Not quite yet, anyway.

Quinn chuckled to himself and fished out a cigarette.

"Thank you for the good news, Ariel," he said as he slipped the smoke between his lips. "Get Bane's ass back here, if you would, and go get some rest."

She nodded and turned on her heel.

The clones followed her out the door. Quinn smirked and headed outside, Henry following at his side. He too had a pack of cigarettes at the ready. Tapping the bottom of the packet, a single butt appeared over the rim.

"She's a curse and a blessing at the same time," Quinn muttered as he slipped a pack of matches from his shirt pocket. He lit his cigarette with one and shot a look to Henry. "I see the flame of the devil in her eyes."

"No doubt." The young gunman stretched, heaving a lungful of smoke into the crisp, cool air. He flicked the rim of his hat, knocking it further on his head so he could peer at the starry sky. "Morgante brought in the bounty hunter from Devil's Bluff."

"Good." Quinn crossed his arms and leaned against a limestone wall.

The night went on, silent as the stars above, silent save for the soft breathing of the two men as they contemplated the duty at hand.

Phase one had been completed. Now phase two awaited.

Quinn planned on giving it their full attention.


	2. Interlude 1

INTERLUDE: from the diary of meryl stryfe 

_July 16, Year 131, 10:17 a.m. – Eleven months, thirty days, and twenty-two hours since Vash left, and I still can't get that numskull out of my head. Yesterday afternoon, we arrived in Black Rock, the town rumored to be the last known location of the Humanoid Typhoon, and for the forth time in ten months, our investigation comes up dry. Vash has never been here; it turns out the rumor was spread when a vicious brute called Morgante the Warhead stormed through town and destroyed the local church. Luckily, no one was seriously hurt or killed, but it would have been a hell of lot easier on my heart had the rumor proved true._

_Milly is her usual, cheerful self. That girl can be so frustrating at times, always seeing the brighter side of life even when a wall of darkness envelops her. I suppose it should be enlightening somehow, like a beacon in the shadows aimed to keep my vision straight and true, but all I can ever think about is how much pain she has suffered since Wolfwood's passing. Ultimately, that pain was brought on by the very man we pursue now: Vash the Stampede. Our lives were greatly improved when that walking disaster finally faded away._

_Maybe that's what my head thinks. Maybe my head's right. Wouldn't surprise me. I spent a majority of my life knowing everything my head tells me is true, and it usually is. Milly desires everything unfathomable. Everything illogical. She is drawn everywhere she goes by the fallacies of the heart. She's a woman who does the impractical like it's no big deal at all. Stupid things like pursuing a crazed lunatic like Vash the Stampede across the sands of time, though we have no clue as to his true whereabouts._

_I think the most frustrating thing about Milly is the fact that she does everything that I myself desire, though I know how utterly impossible it is. My mind screams that these things should be forbidden. They should be locked away and the key thrown into the pits of hell. But I follow despite myself, because deep inside, it's exactly what my own heart desires. For a simple girl like me, it's infuriating._

_This is a girl who somehow taught me to think with my heart. I both love and hate her for it. It's an unwanted gift, or maybe a treasured curse. The only thing I know for sure is it's the reason I am here. Black Rock called to us because of a name. A rumor with no apparent truth attached, and that too is infuriating. Now we must turn away and begin our journey anew, and again, despite the frustration, my heart doesn't hesitate. My head doesn't know where we're going, so I have to let my heart guide me._

_It's drawn by the call of a man I haven't seen in nearly a year._

_A man known to the world as Vash the Stampede._


	3. Chapter One

ONE: bebop down 

Pain coursed through the old man's body, the unexpected pain that a child might experience when toying with the unknown. At first, he didn't know where he was or exactly how he got there, but it wasn't home. It wasn't murky or cold enough to be home. On top of the strange, golden glow that soaked the muggy room, in itself out of the ordinary, was the odd heat that slowly toasted his body. His clothes were soaked, and when wiped his forehead with his hand, a thin layer of sweat coated his palm.

He couldn't remember a single moment when he had actually been hot.

Jet forced himself into a seated position and rubbed his eyes. This was a place he couldn't recognize, a world he didn't know. Even so, as his eyes cleared, it became increasingly obvious that this was a familiar place after all. In fact, he knew it very well. This was his home.

He was on the _Bebop_. But there was something terribly wrong. It had never been so incredibly bright on his ship. Shaking his head, Jet reached for the comm. He pressed a button. "Spike?" There was no response. "Damnit. What is it now?" He pressed down on the switch again. "Hey, Spike, pick up your damn radio! Where the hell are you?"

Still no response. Jet forced himself out of his seat to explore.

The old man worked his way toward the source of the golden light. He soon found it, and his heart sank into the deepest pit of despair at his discovery. There, in the side of his ship, was the kind of gaping hole a piece of paper might procure if the tip of a dull blade was dragged against it. Jet lay a hand on his head as a splitting headache worked its way up his spine. The hull was torn to shreds and the wiring was mutilated.

This wasn't going to be easy to repair. He looked to the edge of the destruction, where the jagged exterior met the outside realm that had caused the breach. There, the innards of the ship had been spilt out into golden sand.

"What the hell?" Jet muttered. He worked his way to the breach and peer to the outside world. As he had feared, there was nothing but sand for as far as the eye could see. He had managed to crash the _Bebop_ out in the middle of a barren plain. There was nothing else. Of all places, Jet had managed to crash his ship out in the middle of a desolate wasteland. "Oh no!" He groaned and slapped his prosthetic hand against his forehead. "Why me? Why always me?"

----------

"Ugh. I'm gonna have a headache."

The damage was worse than he'd expected. The _Bebop_ had no power, and without power there wasn't a hell of a lot that he could do. He could hear the bitching now. Faye and Spike were the galaxy's ultimate whiners, able to bitch their way into and out of the most difficult situations known to man. Faye especially would be at his throat until she could have a nice hot shower. The bitch was like that sometimes. Hell, most times.

He crashed down onto his couch and fished out a cigarette. Jet figured a shower was out of the question. The ship's water supply had been depleted as it was, and they'd have to have something to drink. Faye would just have to stink up the place the same as the rest of them. The old man lit his cigarette. _Hell, everything else's fucked up, _he mused.

Jet leaned back and sighed. "What the hell am I supposed to do," he wondered aloud. "We're in the middle of nowhere."

Behind him, a familiar set of feet trudged loudly into the room.

"Geez, what the hell did you do, Jet?" Spike muttered as he peered about the _Bebop_ living area. "I lay down for an hour and you crash the ship? Damn, I thought it was just a dream."

Jet grunted. "A nightmare, more like it."

"Where the hell are we?"

"Earth, I think."

Spike stared at him. "Earth? I thought we were going to Venus."

The old man glared hard at his partner. The need to strangle the younger man surged through him, but he forced it down to the bottom of his "need-to-do" list. There were a ton of things piling on right now, and he didn't have time for Spike's shit.

Jet sighed and forced all his anger to the back to the pit of his stomach. "I don't know exactly what happened. One minute we're flying through hyperspace on out way to Venus. Next thing I know I'm picking myself out of the remains of the pilot's chair." He folded his arms over his chest, heaving a fresh lungful of smoke into the muggy air. A thousand things that he could tell his partner came to mind, but he decided he should cut the shit and get right down to the nitty-gritty. "We crashed in the middle of the desert, and there's no way to fix the _Bebop_. Hate to admit it, but I think we're stranded."

He didn't think there was any way possible that one of the smaller ships could have survived the crash. Even if they did, there wasn't much fuel at all, either in their tanks or in the emergency tank of the _Bebop_. It was discouraging to say the least.

"No food. We've got a little water but not much." He stretched his sore muscles and flicked the excess ashes from his smoke. "We should find Ed and Faye. Just in case they're hurt."

Spike turned to his friend; his jaw nearly fell to the steel floor of the ship as he stared. "Just hold on a second. You're telling me you plotted our hyperspace route directly into a desert planet?"

Jet fumed but remained silent.

"Great."

And then he was gone. Jet flicked the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, shaking his head. For a time, the bounty hunter stared at the ceiling, grumbling to himself. "Damn ingrate. Did he ever consider asking about me? I can't remember a thing, yet all he can think about is accusing me of shit."

He rose and headed off to find the shrew. Faye'd be pretty ticked if no one showed her concern. Besides, he needed to find some sense of reason to counter Spike's egotism, or at least someone worse who might cancel him out. Faye was just as bad as Spike. If nothing else, maybe if those two were at each other's throats he could find some sort of peace to contemplate a remedy for this whole ugly predicament. Maybe he could send them out to find help, if there was any help on this Godforsaken rock.

Soon he made his way to Faye's quarters. The door was as gnarled and bent as the rest of the ship. He shook his head with a heavy sigh and knocked, but there was no answer from within. With all his strength, he leaned against the damaged door and pushed it open. Tentatively, he peered into the jumbled mess within.

"Hey, Faye? You in here? Everything all right?"

She wasn't there. Jet cursed to himself and slammed the door.

----------

A low, mournful groan echoed through the darkened corridors of the _Bebop_. Ed thought it was kind of humorous, listening to herself moan in pain. It didn't change the fact that her entire body ached. While she didn't know exactly where she was, she vaguely recalled making her way to the bathroom before blacking out. Maybe that was where the smell came from.

"Oh…Edward sore," she murmured to herself, and finally leaned forward to sit Indian style in the middle of the corridor, slowly rocking from side-to-side.

Her eyes were crossed and glazed over, though she could still make out Tomato resting nearby, somehow unscathed.

"Where is Edward?" she asked the laptop.

And then she fell back, her legs pointed straight to the ceiling above.

"Mayday, payday! _Bebop_ down! Requesting immediate assistance from all available spacecraft and starbuggies…"

In the moment to follow, Edward drifted off to sleep.

----------

Jet eventually found Faye in the main room, staring blankly out the window. One hand pushed hair away from her face while the other hung limply at her side. At first, she didn't acknowledge him, caught firmly between the prospect of their disposition and her curiosity toward the desolate land that stretched out before her. She smirked when she saw his reflection in the mirror. "Nice driving. I'm impressed."

He snorted._ Fuck you, too._ He didn't say so much with words. "Great. Glad you approve. You're in one piece, too, I see." The old man limped over to the couch and crashed down, groaning. He placed his hands against his throbbing temples. "Where the hell are the others? We need to come up with a contingency plan."

Faye watched him limp away with a frown, and followed him to the couch. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine, thanks," he muttered. He sighed and softened his tone. "Faye, could you go find the others and get them back here? I don't think the radios are working."

She actually smiled.

"Sure thing, big guy. You just relax and rest your leg."

And then, thankfully, blissfully, she was gone.

Jet sighed and lay back, closing his eyes.


	4. Chapter Two

TWO: never-ending journey 

For the past year, ever since the passing of Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Milly Thompson felt old. She woke from a restless sleep to find her pillow still moist with the tears of longing. In the beginning, when she had set out with Meryl on the mission, seeking Vash the Stampede for the Bernardelli Insurance Society, life had been as sweet as jam and honey on her mother's raisin toast.

The death of Nicholas left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She took solace in the fact that she was not dead and that Meryl was with her, and would be for always. It did not change the fact that Nicholas had left her with a broken heart—at first, she hated him for that—but then it came to pass that she accepted his sacrifice as an act of honor, for it eventually brought Mr. Vash some semblance of peace.

She would always love him, even if she would never be able to hold him.

That day on the bus, when they had slept side by side, had been a day she had thought a lot of since his passing. That had been the day Vash and Nicholas had saved a little girl from certain death in the desert from the security system onboard a long lost ship that had crash-landed one hundred thirty years ago.

Back then, on that fateful day, they had known very little of Nicholas D. Wolfwood, but in the time following, Milly had grown to care deeply for the traveling priest. The adventures they shared were memories she would forever treasure, for it was those memories by which she best remembered him. It had been a trying time, with herself and Meryl so caught up in work and Vash troubled by a past that he would never share. The gentleness she found in the priest, along with the playfulness of Vash the Stampede and the joy they brought her, were the only escapes from her duties.

The tears on her pillow were becoming commonplace. Even if she went to bed joyful the night before, she always awoke with a wet pillow. She could never remember the dreams that coaxed them from deep inside—Milly hated to see anyone cry—though she knew her tears were all because of Nicholas.

With a soft groan, the young woman finally forced herself from beneath the covers and rose out of bed. She stretched, and as always, dipped her hands in the fresh tub of water on the nightstand to wash the tearful sleep from her face. It had become a ritual to her, an escape from the somber dream world to reenter the land of the conscious. She left the bedroom with a big smile on her face; she didn't want Meryl to see that something so sad could remain in her heart for very long. She knew her friend was already gone when she found half of a box of danishes waiting for her on the table. Meryl had left a note next to the box, and Milly read it aloud to herself: "Went to town square for the morning. Coffee on stove. Help yourself. I'll be waiting at the fountain." The coffee in the pot was still hot and fresh, and she soon found herself indulged in the morning meal.

After breakfast, Milly finished dressing, collected her stun gun and the money, and left the room. She headed out to do her morning chores, including a stop at the general store for groceries and supplies. She put her heart and soul into her duties for Meryl. She put her heart and soul into everything important in life. Especially when it included Meryl and their impossible quest.

It's what the priest would have wanted.

Life had an odd way about it. One moment you were strolling along, just lapping up life like a spunky puppy with a lust for excitement, and the next you simply fell flat on your face.

The priest's death had that effect on Milly. She supposed she'd let herself get too close, that maybe her heart was too vulnerable, but that's simply the kind of girl Milly Thompson was. She tried not to let the heartache show, but it was hard. For a girl who tried not to let the bad things in life overshadow the good, everything had changed with the death of Nicholas D. Wolfwood.

Mr. Vash's disappearance had brought all of the heartache back. She tried not to let it show. Maybe Meryl had never seen her pain, though deep in her heart-of-hearts, she knew her secret couldn't be safe forever. If it was still a secret at all. Milly had a way of revealing the intricacies of her heart even when she didn't want to, and Meryl had a journalist's nose for the truth. That was a telltale combination.

She left the general store with a bagful of groceries. Meryl hadn't said anything about getting food, but, then again, Meryl hadn't been her boss since they'd broken their relations with Bernardelli. That was a great as far as Milly was concerned, because she had grown tired of the work the job demanded.

Milly sighed and brought out that honey-sweet smile that she preferred people to remember. She headed out to find Meryl at town square, eager for the new day to begin. Perhaps their search might end this day, and they could stop being on the run all the time.

Meryl was always on the run. It was tiring, but Milly loved her anyway. They were the best of friends, and Milly would walk through fire to make her happy.

Meryl Stryfe looked up from her place in the center of town. In her lap was a worn, leather-bound book, her right hand placed lightly on the page she had been reading while the other guarded her eyes from the bright glow of the morning sun. Milly Thompson was nowhere in sight and she was late, no doubt enjoying the day talking with children, as usual.

She had to smile to herself. Milly was like that, kind-hearted and sweet—a heart so large it included everyone. Meryl gazed about the town, but saw nothing so far, only the ordinary. She sighed and returned her gaze to the book in her lap.

She eagerly awaited Milly's arrival so they could make new plans for the day. It was time that the two of them found some work. She was tired of unemployment, and even wearier of the funds they had depleted over the past four months.

Very shortly she heard the familiar scuffling of her big friend approaching. She glanced up to see Milly, a big bag of groceries tucked into her left arm. She was beaming with joy, as always.

"Good morning, Meryl! Did you sleep well?" The big girl plopped down next to her at the fountain's edge, watching Meryl a sparkle in her eyes that matched the curiosity in a child's gaze. "I bought some groceries. There is bread and salami and cheese and mustard, a tomato, lettuce, and all the pudding you can eat!"

Meryl sighed and put her book down again. At first, she thought the look on her face should be one of annoyance, but with Milly it was hard to stay mad, or any other emotion that wasn't happiness when it involved her gentle friend. Milly did every she could to make everyone around her happy. Usually, she succeeded, though Meryl could remember a few times that Milly had been down in the dumps and the thought bothered her. Anything but joy just didn't suit her friend, and Meryl could only hope that now, despite all that had happened, she could stay happy.

She took a quick peek into the bags. She wasn't much of a pudding fan, but there was no reason to tell Milly that. Instead, she shook away her worry and smiled. "I slept well, Milly, thank you," she said, and slipped her book in the bag for safe keeping. "I take it you had a good time with the children in the market?"

Milly gave her best "innocent-girl" look, her grin spreading as wide and true as the most beautiful sunset. "Oh, yes, Meryl. There certainly are a lot of children here. I was thinking that I might never want to leave." She sat back and stared up at the sky. Twin suns sparkled like diamonds in the morning sky. "It's such a beautiful morning. I don't know if I've ever seen such a blue sky."

Meryl glanced to her friend. Milly hadn't mentioned the sky in over a year. It surprised her. She wondered if the big girl might finally be moving on. Or maybe it was the possibility that they were off on their own again, searching for Vash.

She looked up, her face somber and serious for a moment as she gazed to the sky with her friend. There was only a single cloud, far to the east.

"Yeah," she whispered. "It is beautiful."

They had come here to Black Rock the day before, arriving in the late afternoon, to investigate the rumors that had reached her ears, but it seemed once again they were wrong. Milly didn't seem to mind. For her, it just meant that they would have to look elsewhere. Meryl, on the other hand, had grown fearful of what seemed to be inevitable.

"Milly, do you think we should stop looking for Vash? I mean…maybe he's…" She stopped herself and glanced over to her friend. Milly's eyes were still locked on the twin suns overhead. The girl seemed oblivious to the situation, as usual. Meryl really didn't want to burden her with such worries, so she changed the subject. "You really do like kids, don't you, Milly?" She forced her worries to the back of her mind with a smile.

Milly nodded eagerly. "Oh yes, I do! With all my heart. I hope to have many of my own someday. As my big big sister always says, there is nothing more satisfying in life than a big family who loves you and cares for you." She, of course, had been born into an enormous family, the youngest sibling in all. She'd also been one of the first to strike out on her own. Meryl smiled at the thought, convinced the big girl would always be with her, even if Vash the Stampede would not.

But soon the smile faded and Milly turned her attention back to her partner.

"What about Vash, Meryl? Maybe he's what? Are you afraid Mr. Vash is…dead?" Meryl could see the torrents of emotion cycling through her friend, but she somehow managed to hold herself in check. The last thing she wanted to think of was the possibility that they had lost another friend. Meryl didn't blame her. The thought that Vash was gone for good had been eating away at her for a very long time. "We're going to find him, Meryl," she decided finally, her smile returning. "Even if I have to drag you to every corner of the planet."

Meryl leaned back again, her long, black hair spilling down so that the tips rested in the water of the fountain. She let the sun rest on her face and warm her spirit. Milly was right. She had no right to instill her fears into the girl. "I just wonder sometimes," she sighed. "We haven't heard a word of him until recently. We followed the rumors here, but there hasn't been a single sigh of him. The rumor was never even true. I mean, maybe we're just clinging to hope that isn't there at all."

Milly shot her a look of concern. Meryl was speaking her mind, her heart. It was how she was, how she had been long before she had even met the girl who was to be her partner. The young woman closed her eyes, thinking back to that day, one year ago, when she had last seen Vash. He had seemed refreshed, walking away with in his red coat and Wolfwood's Cross Punisher over his shoulder.

She wondered, was that really meant to be the day that she would last see him. Had she already seen the last of the man she had come to care so much for? She didn't want that to be the case, but right now anything else seemed to be impossible. Vash was gone, and the thought made her ill at ease.

With a sigh, Meryl shook the thought away and looked back to Milly. Tears seemed to be filling the girl's eyes already. _I'm doing this to her. I'm causing her pain. But what if I'm right? Do I have any right to comfort her now?_ Meryl reached out and took Milly's hand in her own. She felt ashamed that she had brought up the thought that Vash might be dead. Milly was the one who cared about everyone and everything, and now Meryl was responsible for forcing bad feelings on her.

She gave the big girl's hand a squeeze. "You're probably right, Milly." She drew a deep breath and suddenly realized how clean the air seemed today. The smell of the crisp, cool water from the fountain could only help, she thought. A fresh sense of determination took hold, and Meryl's smile returned. "No, you're absolutely right. We'll find him. Any day now. I don't know what I was thinking."

Milly glowed and crushed Meryl's hand in a death-grip. "You're darn right I'm right!" Her smile was nearly too much to hold. Meryl clenched her teeth, lost somewhere between pain and pride for her friend. She could see it in Milly's eyes: _Vash is alive. I'm certain he is._ "So, where to next, Meryl? The next city is over a thousand iles away. I really don't want to walk a thousand iles. Do we have enough money to take a bus?"

Meryl grimaced, turning her attention to the groceries Milly had set at their feet.

_Maybe we would have, but I really doubt it._

Oh well. There was no reason to hurt the girl's feelings.

"I guess we'll have to find some work," she said finally. She gave her friend a look out of the corner of her eye. Milly rolled her eyes, delivered with a silent sigh at the mention of a job. Meryl smiled. "Otherwise, a bus is definitely out of question."

Milly groaned. "I guess if we have to."

"It'll only be for a few days, until we can make enough to get us to Los Alamos."

Her big friend nodded her submission, and the girls fell silent.

The morning sunlight caressed their souls as they sat there, waiting for something seemingly more distant now than before their arrival less than a day ago. For Meryl, it seemed a never-ending journey. Then again, maybe that was exactly as it was meant to be.


	5. Chapter Three

THREE: a sturdier tree

A tall man in a long, brown poncho strolled into Black Rock on a bright morning in July, the first town he had visited in over six months. His tousled, blond hair was long and fell down to his unshaven jawline. A pair of yellow shades shielded his eyes from the twin suns that pierced the heavens, just over the eastern horizon.

He entered town as he always did, a mysterious stranger with no apparent reason to be here. His world was a lie, his life an enigma. At least, it used to be. A year had passed him by, and he had yet to allow himself to truly believe that the most troubling days of his life were over. He had done as She had asked him to, shouldered the burden that She had placed upon him, because there had been no other choice.

_Take care of Knives._

He did, just as She had asked. It had troubled him to no end, but he had done it, and now that it was over he actually felt pretty good about it all. Now he had a chance to live his life, with Knives under lock and key, laying where no one could ever find him in a place he would never be able to escape.

_Until you realize there must be room in this world for all of us, you have to understand there will be no room in it for you._

So he walked into town, alone. He made his way to the marketplace, not far from town square. It was a busy little world, meant solely for the people of this town and those few who might wander here from the outside. It was fairly busy for a small town, with men, women, and children everywhere he looked. Everyone seemed to be happy, and that lifted his spirits all the more. He passed through town with his head held high, and a broad, almost foolish grin on his face.

Soon he came to a stand where he was met by a familiar, pleasant scent that drew him to the peek of curiosity. He slowed to a walk and peered toward the young woman who stood at the counter, bent over a fryer, plucking fresh, golden pastries from the hot oil. "Donuts! All right! I can't believe my luck!" The man spun on his heel and strolled over to the cart.

The young woman saw him coming and wiped her hands on her apron. She smiled pleasantly at her customer.

"Young lady," he began, grinning ear to ear. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. "May I have a dozen of your tastiest donuts? And I like 'em fresh, too! Nothing stale, please!"

----------

Sitting beneath the overhang outside the local general store, Vash the Stampede leaned back, his feet on the banister, and began to snarf. It was a beautiful day, and he could think of no way better to celebrate a beautiful day than by sitting in the shade, dining on one's favorite food.

A dozen or so children scampered by, playing, a pair of happy puppies dancing beneath them. The scene brought a smile to his face, and Vash thought of happier times. They seemed few and far between, but they were there and they filled his soul with happiness. They soothed his heart and soul.

Just as She had all those years ago.

With his eyes closed, he thought of Her. Rem Saverem, the woman who had made him the man he was today.

_What a gorgeous day. Wish you were here to see it, Rem. I wish I could show you the world you brought us to._

Damn, he missed her so much. His heart still bore the pain of her passing. It was hard to believe that 131 years had passed since she had been stolen away from him.

----------

_Vash huddled beneath a redbud tree and gazed silently at the crimson mess pouring from the jagged tear in his palm. The pain was so intense that tears stung his eyes and stained his cheeks as they slid down his face. He drew his injured hand to his chest and cradled it there, staring to the tree, watching the branch that had snapped beneath his weight. Failure ate at him, filling his heart with sorrow._

_He shouldn't have come out here alone, and Rem would tell him so. Everyone would be angry with him, for disturbing the peace of their private sanctuary, for tainting it with the crimson liquid that pulsed from his hand and dribbled to the grass below. He tried to wipe it away with his sleeve, but that only smeared it around, making it all the more obvious, not to mention the huge red stain that now clung to the fabric. He'd never be able to hide _that_ from Rem. He would never be able to hide the truth behind the painful injury. The tears came more heavily with the realization, in choked sobs._

_He cried there for a time, lost in his troubles. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to explain the broken tree limb and the injury and the crimson trail he left behind? He couldn't lie. After all, this had been Rem's tree, the one she spoke of often, the one she loved dearly. She loved every tree and bush and blade of grass, every insect and arachnid, every bird, and every sweet breath of air that welcomed her here. Now Vash had damaged her tree, and it made him heartsick to think of the pain he would cause her._

_"Vash?"_

_He flinched at her voice, calling his name. He'd expected time to think, to prepare himself for the inevitable, but apparently that was too much to ask for. She'd already come to find him, and the torture would soon follow. He didn't answer her right away, but instead listened to her soft footfalls in the grass as she approached. He tightened his hold on his injured hand and clenched his eyes shut._

_"Oh, Vash, honey, are you all right?"_

_She sunk to her knees by his side and pulled him into her lap, cradling her into her tender embrace. She was so loving and gentle it was impossible to imagine this woman could be cool and calculating when the situation demanded. His heart thundered in his chest. There was no way she didn't see the injured tree, no way she couldn't see the pool of blood in the grass next to them, yet she embraced him. She said nothing of the damage he had caused._

_Instead, she whispered into his ear. "Does it hurt much?"_

_"A little," he mumbled. Not so much as the pain he knew he had caused her._

_"I'm sorry it hurts," she whispered. He felt her soft lips in his hair, heard the gentle release of her kiss. She began to rock him forth slowly, her cheek nestled against the top of his head. Rem turned her eyes to the damaged tree. "You know, I used to climb trees when I was a child."_

_His eyes turned up to hers in surprise. "You? Really?"_

_She looked down to him, her eyes sparkling. "Of course. All the time."_

_"Did…you ever get into trouble?"_

_"Oh Vash." She cradled him deeper into her embrace. "You're such a baby."_

_He glanced up to her, his brow furrowed. He cherished this woman, worshipped her, but sometimes she seemed more inclined to keep the truth hidden. It could be so frustrating. Not that she lied—Rem never lied—but she had a mysterious way about her that he simply didn't understand. Why couldn't she just tell him that he had done something wrong? It wouldn't be near as hurtful as the silence._

_He lay his head against her chest and stared at the jagged cut in his palm. Crimson fluid still wept through the wound like the tears that trickled down his cheeks._

_Her breast rose and fell with a soft sigh. "I never got into trouble. Climbing trees was just one of the daily rituals in my childhood, like playing tag with my friends or rolling through the grass with my dog. And sometimes I fell. It wasn't a rarity. I even broke my wrist once." She held out her arms for him to see. Sure enough, her left wrist seemed slightly more swollen than her right. "It's a part of childhood. Sometimes we fall down, but that's okay."_

_He looked up to her, his eyes full of curiosity._

_She gently brushed away his tears with her thumb and kissed his nose. Her smile glowed, as every other radiant piece of her. "Real life just wouldn't be fun without those bumps in the road. You just have to get right on up and go for it again."_

_He stared at her, incredulous. "But Rem…"_

_"The tree will survive. We'll just have to cut off the damaged branch, that's all. And when your hand is better, I'll expect to see you out here again." He continued to watch her, waiting, as she gazed back to him. Playfully, she tapped his nose with her finger. "But next time, we'll pick a sturdier tree, okay?"_

_Slowly, Vash nodded, and a smile replaced her sorrow. She set him down and rose to her feet and offered him her hand. "Now we can see to your injury," she said, smiling. He gazed at her before nodding. He could see that he had stained her blouse and felt guilty. Whether she noticed the red splotches in the fabric or not, he didn't know. All that she saw now was him, and the sparkle in her dark eyes told him that it really didn't matter. That alone made him feel a little better._

_He gave her his good hand and together they walked away._

----------

Vash opened his eyes and peered at the wondrous, blue skies.

_It's a part of childhood. Sometimes we fall down, but that's okay. Real life just wouldn't be as fun without those bumps in the road. You just have to get right on up and go for it again._

He smiled. She'd been right, of course, as always. Those bumps in the road certainly added to the mystery of childhood, though in his adulthood, he thought he would be better off without the bumps. They were simply a nuisance that stood in the way of happiness, something he would probably never attain in more than brief doses at a time.

Vash sighed and bit into a donut. They were good. Better than good, in fact. They were simply heavenly. He had eaten all but two; he bent the opening of the bag down, sealing them inside. Maybe he should find someone to share them with. He gazed about, smiling at the prospect of making a new friend.

He heard someone step out of the general store. His eyes turned to see who it was, and he nearly fell out of his chair. A big girl with an armload of groceries strolled out onto the street and toward the crowd of children, some distance away. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. "Milly?" he mumbled as she disappeared into the marketplace.

She had walked right on by, right past him, without noticing him. That alone was a surprise, but the bigger shock was the fact he had found her here, of all places, nowhere near the tiny town where he had left the girls just a year ago.

He stood, shaking his head. "I don't believe it."


	6. Chapter Four

FOUR: marooned

The four of them crowded around the coffee table. Edward was bent over Tomato, trying to log on to some network, any network, but she soon discovered how impossible it was going to be. She lay back and groaned, sparking interest in the three adults hovering over her. Jet studied the blank screen and then glanced to Ed. "Well? What's wrong?"

"No network," she groaned. "There're no satellites and without a satellite it's hopeless, hopeless, hopeless."

"Hopeless?" Faye asked.

"That's what Edward said."

Faye flopped down into the couch, resting the back of her hand on her forehead, as she let out a heavy sigh. The others didn't even look at her. "Hopeless…" she moaned. That's the last thing she had wanted to hear.

"Well, damnit," Jet muttered. "Can you at least tell us where the hell we are?"

Edward continued to stare up toward the ceiling, though her toes flew over the keyboard as agile as her fingers. The others still couldn't quite get over seeing the spectacle, but at the present Jet was too irritated to give a shit.

"Edward will have to use stars to map our location."

"Stars?" Jet muttered. That was weird.

Faye tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. "So what happened to the satellites?"

"Edward already explained. There are no satellites."

Jet peered down into the computer screen, letting Edward's report sink in. He couldn't make heads or tails of the information scrolling across the screen. He scratched his head, giving the girl a blank stare. "No satellites," he muttered. "Just how far off course are we?"

They couldn't be _that_ far off course. There was only one place he knew of that had deserts like the one they crashed into, and that was Earth. They were probably in the middle of the Sahara or the Middle East or someplace like that. It should be easy to find help to fix the _Bebop_. They just had to find the right people. He stared at Tomato, never taking his fingers from his bald head. "Maybe it's just broken," he suggested, though he didn't sound convinced, given Ed's reaction to the situation.

"It's not broken, Jet-person," Ed replied without a second thought. She frowned down to the flood of information on her screen. "Huh? This can't be right. The stars are messed up. The North Star is now the South Star and the other stars are mixed up."

She rubbed her forehead as she tried to figure out what she had done wrong.

Spike gawked. "Mixed up? Whaddaya mean, mixed up? Ed, you better start making some sense right now!" He heard weird things out of her mouth all the time, but this was beyond bizarre. Ed was a loony; maybe she'd gotten the calculations wrong. But Spike knew better. Ed was a loony, but she wasn't stupid. Far from it. Which meant…

"Maybe Tomato _is_ messed up," Ed murmured. "It says the North Star is now in the south. The normal constellations are gone. There are only new formations."

"Well…" This was awkward. Jet scratched his head, trying to work out any actual helpful information with the kid. _Then again,_ Jet mused, _Ed could almost be considered normal when thrown into this incredulous bunch._ "Okay, okay. I think I understand. Did you try every three dimensional overlay to see if you could match anything?"

_Well, of course she did, you ding-dong. We're talking about Radical Edward here._ Jet moaned. His headache was getting worse.

Faye leaned over Ed's shoulder, trying to make sense of the jumble of numbers, but she didn't see anything that looked remotely familiar. That didn't surprise her. "So what does all this mean?" she asked. "Where the hell are we?"

The girl sat back, peering upside down at Faye, pulling her goggles from her eyes as she stared at the older woman. "Ed tried everything Ed could think of—3D and 2D and more 3D, even upside down and converted. There's not a single match in the database."

"And that means?" Faye prompted.

"It means we're screwed, Faye," Spike muttered, puffing on a cigarette.

Faye gave him a dirty look.

"We're not Kansas anymore," Ed said. Her three partners gave her a look. "Stranded on a deserted planet. Lost in space without a trace."

Faye gave Jet a look. "Is she saying what I think she's saying?"

The old man put his head in his hands and groaned.

"Yep," Spike said, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray. He ran his fingers through his thick green hair and sighed. "We're marooned."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

"I wish we were," Jet sighed, and picked a cigarette from the pack on the table. He struck a match and lit the smoke. Ed rolled about on the floor for a time, taking a break from her work as the grown-ups stared at each other. "But it's not like we have much of a choice in the matter. We're stuck here, and we don't even know where _here_ is."

Faye fumed. "God damnit, Jet."

"Hey, don't chew me out," he muttered. "I never asked you to come along."

"And just who the hell _can_ I chew out?!"

Jet glared at her. "At least give me a chance to show you everything, okay? Our location isn't even the half of it."

Faye stared. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

----------

The damage was extensive, stretching nearly thirty yards along the starboard hull of the ship, and plenty wide enough for a man to crawl through without much difficulty. Faye sunk to the sand and stared wordlessly at the Bebop's terrible gash. Spike stood over her, scratching the back of his head as he studied the terribly wounded ship.

"Oh man," was all the young cowboy could manage.

Jet was a hell of a mechanic, but they all knew there was nothing much he could do with the damage presented to them. There simply wasn't enough material onboard to seal the breach. Which meant they would have to seek materials needed on the outside. More importantly, they were going to have to figure out where to search. That was Ed's job, though they all knew how difficult it would be. She was inside now, doing her detective work. It would be no less than a miracle if she found even half of what they needed.

"Like I was saying," Jet said quietly as he gazed to the damage, "we need to come up with a contingency plan."

"Like what?" Spike asked. "We're stranded here, remember? There's no guarantee that there's anyone else here. What're we gonna do, melt down the _Hammerhead_ for scrap?"

"Like hell," Jet muttered.

"Well it's better than nothing!" Faye said. "I say we do it. We have to get off this rock somehow."

"There's not enough salvageable metal in the _Hammerhead_, _Redtail_, and _Sword Fish_ combined," Jet snapped. "Besides, it'd be easier to fix them."

Spike shot him a look. "And scrap the _Bebop_? Geez, Jet, never thought I'd see the day."

"Oh, shut up," Jet grumbled. "We're not leaving the _Bebop_ behind."

Faye drew a gloved finger through the sand. "So what about the other ships? How bad are they?"

"Well, the _Hammerhead_'s definitely out of commission. She needed work before our little detour."

"And the others?" Spike said.

The old man pulled out his pack of cigarettes and knocked one free of the foil, holding it out so his partner could have something to grab onto. "Here, have a cigarette so I can tell you the bad news."

Spike stared at the butt for a moment and then slid it free of the pack. "Don't I even get a blindfold?"

Jet smirked and pulled out a lighter, handing it to his friend. "The _Sword Fish _is out of commission, too. I'm afraid Faye's got the only working ship onboard."

Faye clenched her fists. "Yes," she whispered. "There is a God."

Spike gave her a dirty look and lit his cigarette. "Damn Jet, your piloting sucks. Couldn't you have crashed the ship on the _Redtail_'s side?"

Jet retrieved his lighter and pulled out a cigarette for himself. There was a look of annoyance in his eyes despite his smirk. "We're going to play a little guessing game. And the question is, guess who forgot to anchor his ship down the last time he got back from one of his little private excursions?" He sucked up a fresh lungful of smoke and eyed his partner.

Spike closed his eyes. "Shit."

"Well, it looks like I'm your only hope then, huh boys?"

"Not so fast, hot pants," Jet said. "The only ship with a sufficient amount of fuel onboard was the _Sword Fish_. The _Bebop _was running on fumes on the way to Venus, and your ship hasn't been refueled in ages."

"God damnit, Jet!"

Spike smirked. "We are so screwed."

A moment passed as the three of them stood there in silence, fuming over the challenge ahead of them. None of them could see past the seemingly inevitable. No one could possibly survive on this barren wasteland. If there was any life at all, it could hardly be enough to help them. Jet closed his eyes and blew a puff of smoke into the hot, dry air.

"Edward found a satellite!"

The high-pitched cry of success was followed an instant later excited barking as the girl dashed toward them from seemingly nowhere, Tomato balanced atop her head and the dog, Ein, chugging after her through the sand. Ed flopped down before them, holding the laptop high over her head as she crashed into the sand.

"Huh?" Jet shot Faye and Spike a look. "Whaddaya mean, Ed? What kind of satellite is it?"

"The satellite works but it doesn't send signals to other places in the stars," Ed replied. "It sends information to the seeds."

Jet looked at her. "Seeds?"

Ed nodded. "Yeah, but only one seed works. The other seeds are scattered all around the planet, but they don't work. But ya know what, there are people here other than Bebop people!"

Faye leaned forward. "People!" she cried, hope flaring anew.

"Yep!"

Spike frowned. "Wait a second. What the hell is a seed?"

"You lunkhead," Faye retorted. "They're where plants come from!"

"Don't be an idiot! Seeds don't receive satellite signals!"

"Yeah they do," Edward announced.

The two men turned their eyes to her, bewildered. Faye crossed her arms with a smug grin. "So, Ed." She paused, and a frown followed. "How?"

"Well, these seeds aren't plant seeds, they're ship seeds," Ed explained. "They crashed here a long time ago."

Jet scratched his head. "You mean the people came here on ships, and now they're stranded here like we are."

"That's right."

"Damnit, that's not what I wanted to hear," Spike muttered.

Jet shot Spike a look. "At least we're not alone," he said. He wondered what kind of people lived here. He didn't fully understand what Ed had just told him, but at least it was a start. What did make sense was that something called seeds had broken down all over the planet, and that they had somehow brought the people here. If they could bring people here, maybe they could get people off the planet. Plus, Edward seemed to think one of them still worked.

"Okay," he said. "That's a start, Ed. Thanks. Can you figure out where the closest settlement is?"

She studied the flow of information and nodded. "There's a city about a hundred miles that way," she announced, pointing out across the desert. She looked up to him, grinning like a fool. "Edward doesn't know who the people are. Can Edward come?"

"It's a hundred miles, Ed! We have one working ship and it only fits two people if you cram in as tight as you'd fit. Besides, I'm gonna need you here."

Faye shot a look at him. "You mean you want _me_ to go? Hell no, Jet!"

The old man finished off his cigarette and tossed the butt away. "Here's the deal, Faye. Somebody's got to go, and I need Spike here."

"Ed thinks we can repair _Bebop_ with things from broken seeds."

Jet looked to her. "Huh? Well, how far are they?"

Spike had pulled out his gun and was in the process of peering down the site of the weapon. He didn't say anything as he turned and pointed the barrel at Faye. He squeezed the trigger and the chamber clicked harmlessly.

"Get that thing out of my face, dumbshit!" Faye scowled, pushing gun away. "You know, Spike, you're really starting to piss me off."

"This is stupid," Spike said. "Jet, let me go. Faye doesn't have the nerves."

"Oh, like hell! You're a real idiot, you know that? I've got the only working ship, if you didn't remember."

"Pay attention, Faye! I'm the only one with fuel!"

"Would you two idiots stop bitching! I need to think!"

They were silent for a brief, blissful moment.

"So think," Faye snapped.

"Oh great, I'm sure that helps," Spike muttered.

"Shut up!" Jet shouted. He turned to Faye. "Look, we need your help, Faye." _Help, Faye. Damnit, that wasn't the right choice of words, Jet._ "Faye, please. Spike, Ed, and I will be working as much as we can on getting the _Bebop_ repaired, but we won't have enough here to get the job done."

"Uh, Jet…"

The old man gave Spike a look, as if telling him not to argue. After all, it was _still_ Jet's fuel. Not to mention the tank had to be drained before he could begin repairs anyway. He looked back to Faye.

"But you just said I don't have any fuel. And what are we going to do about food?" She paused, and slumped forward. Her face turned a sickly, pasty color. "Which reminds me, it's been hours since we've eaten anything…"

"Come on, think Faye. There ought to be enough fuel to get you to that town Ed was telling us about. You're just gonna have to siphon it from the _Sword Fish_'s tank."

"Jet…"

The old man ignored Spike. "Come on, Faye. Think you can handle that much?" He offered her his most sincere smile. "And if you get your butt in gear I might be willing to pull out my special." His smile turned into a cunning smirk. "Bell peppers and beef. Remember, we picked up a fresh supply last week."

"God. I think eating Ein sounds like a better idea," Spike muttered. "He can't taste as bad as your 'special.'"

The little dog sank to Edward's side as the kid studied a fresh series of numbers on Tomato's screen.

Faye arched her brow at the mention of Jet's special, and sunk lower to the desert floor. "Wait a sec… Last time we had your 'special' we all ended up with food poisoning." She gave Jet a disgusted look. "I'm not so sure I want to eat anymore."

"Good. Then you can do your part and get to work," Jet retorted. He gave Spike a look. "Let's get to work on that hull breach."

"Do I have to?"

"Damnit, quit your brooding!" Jet rubbed his eyes, trying to force the headache pulsing through his skull to the back of his thoughts. "I'm getting tired of this. We're all in the same boat here, but it's still my ship…or would you rather spend the rest of your days wandering out in the middle of a scorching desert?"

There was silence.

"The heat's enough to cook your blood, ya know."

Jet gave Ed an inquisitive smirk. "Really?"

"You'd be dead in a matter of hours."

Faye stared at the two of them, aghast. "But a lady never stoops low enough to do the commoner's work!" she argued.

"Are we gonna fry Faye-Faye?"

"Shut up, Ed!" Faye turned her nose up at Jet. "Besides, it just so happens that I've already scheduled my beauty sleep, and I can't _possibly_ miss that, now can I?"

Spike chucked a rock out into the desert. "Beauty sleep," he mocked.

Jet lay his forehead between his thumb and forefinger, forcing himself to remain calm. "Faye, we don't have any power. Without power, we don't have any air conditioning. Without air conditioning, it gets hot. Within a few hours, it's gonna be a goddamn pressure cooker in there. It could _kill_ you, Faye." _If I don't strangle you first._ "You'd be doing yourself a favor taking the _Redtail_ out there right now. Plus, you'd be getting out of what little hair I have left. _Got it?!_"

Faye groaned. "Geez! Alright already, I'll go!" She rose and kicked at the dirt in frustration. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared over to the old man. "Well, what else? If I'm going to be your errand girl, I need to know what you need done."

Jet smiled. _Finally, a little cooperation._ "We need all the essentials for life, Faye. See if you can rummage up some food, water, whatever. And find out about the people. I don't want any surprises if I can help it."

"Fine, I'll see what I can do," Faye said quietly after a sigh.

"Come on," Spike grunted. "I'll help you siphon the fuel."

Jet crossed his arms as they turned to walk away. Soon they disappeared into the ship, leaving Ed and Jet alone in the desert.

"Uh oh!"

Jet looked down. "What is it, Ed?" But he understood the moment he saw Tomato's screen flicker and go blank.

Tomato had run out of power.

Ed groaned in frustration and fell flat on her back into the sand.


	7. Chapter Five

FIVE: far too long

It wasn't exactly predictable, but then again, Vash the Stampede was not the most predictable of men. His scream echoed far and wide as he plowed into town square, not fifty feet from where Meryl and Milly were sitting. Of course, he was behind them, so he wouldn't be spotted right away, but they would know that voice anywhere.

He was trailed by a hoard of feisty children and a pair of "vicious" puppies that nipped excitedly at his heels. The children laughed enthusiastically as he let them playfully pummel him into the dusty ground. For Vash, there was nothing like these moments, when he forged a relationship with the children of this world, the hope for the future.

Even in this awkward position, being a grown-up at the bottom of a mound of children, he knew precisely where the girls were. He had followed Milly from a distance, because he had known if she was around, her partner would be too.

Meryl…

The thought of seeing them again was intimidating, and at the same time, it filled him with bliss. He waited for them to look his way, prepared to shout out at them in greeting, though he was staring at them upside down through the mist rising from the fountain. At the same time, he was being tackled by a swarm of man-eating children.

From her seat at the fountain, Meryl lifted her eyes from her friend, her shoulders stiffening. She could have sworn…

Slowly, she looked from left to right. Nothing. "Milly, did you hear…" She stopped short, cut off by the sound of children's laughter. Slowly, she turned her gaze to the group behind her, blinking against the blinding light of the twin suns.

There, beneath the pile of children, was a blond man. Or at least she thought…

Soon, he vanished from view beneath the pile of twisting limbs. She wet her lips, gawking. At first, she thought she must be dreaming. Maybe she'd been out in the sun for too long. Nevertheless, she was almost sure it was him.

Next to her, Milly blinked. "Meryl?"

But she didn't hear the big girl next to her. She was intent on the playful children, or more so, the man she was certain was beneath them. She rose slowly to her feet, trying to get a better look. _Vash?_

He slid out from beneath the children and into the girls' view. One of the playful puppies began to smear his face with kisses.

"It's him," Meryl stammered. She stared at him in disbelief that somehow he had actually found himself in the same town where they had followed a false rumor. _Vash, you're alive, thank goodness you're alive._ She touched Milly's arm. "Milly, look."

When she saw him there, laying next to the swarm of children, Milly's heart exploded with joy. She was up in a shot, tears pouring down her face—soothing, blissful tears—as she waved at the Humanoid Typhoon with all her heart.

"Mr. Vash!" she squealed. "Over here, Mr. Vash! I can't believe it! You see him Meryl?! It's Mr. Vash!"

"Yeah," Meryl replied, but her voice was lost in the constant squeals of her friend.

Milly darted away from her, no doubt intending to hug the living snot out of the legendary gunman. "_Mr. Vash!!!_"

"Oh, hey girls!" Vash flashed his trademark grin and offered a meek little wave, clearly touched to have found them again after so long. He wondered how Meryl would react. She was the kind to go overboard after such a hapless stunt. Well, she'd probably consider it a hapless stunt, anyway, though he had known precisely what he was doing.

The moment he wiggled free from the children of doom, Vash found himself scooped up into the powerful embrace of Milly Thompson. She nearly squeezed the life from him. After all, she was a big girl and a heart that was even bigger, and she didn't seem to know the strength of either. Instantly, Vash felt himself being drained of his air supply. "Uh…hey Milly! Long time no squeeze!" His goofy grin spread across his face, despite the lack of oxygen. He returned her hug, rubbing her back gently.

"Hey, are you two in love?" one of the children asked suddenly.

Vash blushed brilliantly as Milly dropped him. "Oh, yes! Very much so. I love Mr. Vash with all my heart," she announced.

"Are you married?"

"Well, no," she replied.

"Why not? You two should really get a room, ya know?"

"Huh?" She frowned for a moment, and then realization washed over her and she giggled. "Oh, no. It's nothing like that. I mean, Mr. Vash isn't my type, really. We're just really good friends and I happen to care for him very much."

"Oh." The kid looked to his friends, grinning. "That means Vash isn't very good in the sack."

Vash stared down at him, incredulous. "What?! Aren't you a little young to be talking like that?"

"Uh…" The kid squirmed a little, trying to fight out of the sudden tight spot. "I don't know. It's something I heard my sister talking about, that's all."

Vash reached into his pocket and pulled free a handful of coins. He pressed them into the boy's hand. "Here, you take this and you kids go buy some ice-cream or something, okay?"

"Really? You sure this is okay, Mister?"

"Yeah, we're square," Vash said. "I mean, you guys already gave me some great exercise this morning, okay?"

"Okay! Thanks Mister!"

Meryl wasn't watching the children dart away. Instead, her eyes were locked on the one she hadn't seen in exactly one year. She let her eyes trail down the length of him. It seemed nearly everything had changed, from his hairstyle down to the blue jeans beneath the long, brown poncho.

Slowly, she made her way to her friends. When Milly finally let go of him and stepped aside, Meryl would be there, standing before him. She wanted to look into his eyes and see into his soul. She wanted to hold his gaze, fearful that if she closed her eyes he might simply fade away once more, as if he were somehow a sinister illusion meant to tear her heart into pieces the very moment after she had been lifted into the state of elation at their reunion.

She wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to say or do, or even what was appropriate for her to say or do in a moment like this. All that she knew was that he was here and she didn't want to look away. Thankfully, he didn't let his gaze falter, either.

"Hello Vash," she mumbled, and cleared her throat as she stared at him with soft, violet eyes. It was all she could think of to say, and that made her feel somehow foolish. Here was a man she had developed feelings for over a year ago, a man she had thought lost when he walked away a year ago to this very day, and then didn't return to her as she had thought he would. On top of that, all she could think of to say was a simple greeting. She would have kicked herself for that blunder had she not been frozen stiff before him.

Thankfully, Milly broke the moment by setting her hands on her hips, taking Vash's attention from Meryl and allowing the little woman a moment to catch her breath. "Just where have you been, Mr. Vash?" she demanded. "Meryl was worried sick!"

"She was?" he asked, hiding a grin.

"I was not, Milly!"

"We both were," Milly said, despite the reprimanding glare her former Bernardelli partner gave her. "Meryl was afraid we might never see you again."

"Really? I guess I can understand why you might think that."

"Yeah, but I knew you weren't dead. I don't know why you didn't come back for us, but I know you had a reason. That's just the kind of person you are, even if you try to hide it. Everything you do you do for a reason."

Vash smiled. Milly was just as outgoing and personal as ever, but he couldn't help but notice that some of it seemed forced. There seemed to be a lot of things weighing on her mind, and he suspected he understood the emotions flowing beneath the river of joy.

He looked back to Meryl. The little woman remained there, gazing up to him, but at least now she was breathing. His smile suddenly faded, and the serious side of Vash the Stampede took hold. He had promised himself if he ever saw her again, he would answer her questions straight up. Well, as many as he could, anyway. It was the least he could do after the hell he'd put the girls through.

Soon, his smile returned. "I saved you a couple of donuts," he started, and pulled out the bag from beneath his poncho. It was definitely a new look for the Humanoid Typhoon. He didn't even have his old, familiar hairdo, and he was unshaven. He held the bag out and Meryl put a hand to her face in an attempt to hide her grin. Vash looked down. His smile withered a little into a look of disappointment. "But it looks like I sat on 'em. Sorry 'bout that."

"That's okay," Meryl said through a giggle. "It's the thought that counts, right?"

Vash's smile quickly returned. Meryl watched him for a moment more, perusing more thoroughly with her eyes, letting her collected mind take hold of her thoughts. It was great to see him again, to know he was alive and well, but he seemed different somehow, and not just in the way he dressed. _More reserved, maybe,_ she thought, though she couldn't be sure. He was less eccentric than the man from a year ago who had held so much pain within his heart. He seemed…at peace, almost. She simply couldn't explain it.

Meryl finally shook the thought away, and smiled. "Well, are you hungry? Milly just went shopping and I'm sure there's enough even for your appetite."

Vash grinned. "I don't know, I am pretty hungry."

He cupped a hand against his slender belly. He was thinner than he had been, mainly because of the life he had led for much of the past year. It was a life he wasn't quite ready to share yet. Part of him still grieved over how he had left his brother, but the other part soared with elation that his most difficult days seemed to be behind him.

"But you know, I think maybe I just want to go for a walk. I just got into town myself, and I don't know if I'm quite ready to settle down." He put his hands behind his head, stretching as he turned his gaze to the west. "So what brings you two way out here? It's a long way from the village where I left you."

"We stayed in that town a little while," Meryl replied after a moment's hesitation. She wasn't so sure how to answer his question, but she decided there was no reason to tell him the whole truth. She just hoped Milly wouldn't see to it the whole truth got out. _We went looking for you…_ The thought made her tense a little, and she looked at the big girl, but Milly was just watching Vash, aglow as always. "I guess we were lucky to have ended up here the same time as you."

She watched the west, as he did, hoping that was enough to satisfy his curiosity.

_What have you been doing since we last saw you, Vash?_

Vash started to walk away. Meryl was holding back again, and he could tell. He knew by the sound of her voice when she wasn't being entirely truthful, but he wasn't one to force anyone to do anything against their will. Besides, he had his own secrets which he held from her, from everyone. Too many secrets, in fact. That was one of the reasons he considered his life a lie at times.

He paused, and glanced back to see his friends standing there, watching him from where he had left them. Awaiting an invitation. He smiled. "You now, you have legs," he teased. "You have to put one foot forward and follow with the other if you want to walk. Besides, I've been alone long enough."

_Far too long._

Milly grinned at the invitation, almost jumping up in celebration. "Did you hear that, Meryl? He wants us to go with him!"

"Yeah," Meryl grinned, and followed after her friend. Milly was her shadow as they approached him, and together, the three of them set out to the west to see what they could see in this quaint, quiet town.

----------

"I really was worried about you, Vash," Meryl admitted after a short time of silence. "It's nice to see that you're all right."

"It's nice to know I really am still loved," he replied. "I thought that emotion died in me a long time ago."

He smiled at the two of them. He had realized upon their unexpected reunion that he had fallen in love with the both of them. He'd come to care for them so much more than he ad ever cared for any other individual. Well, save one. Rem.

He sighed at the thought and continued deeper into town. As he walked, bantering back and forth with the two women—_the former insurance girls_, he mused—occasionally laughing to his heart's content.

He was alive again, reenergized. He listened to Meryl's soft breathing as she walked next to him, and he knew that she felt at ease now, knowing where he was, and that he was here, right beside her. She barely spoke, but Milly gibbered away like an excited squirrel. She had enough energy for the three of them, Vash mused.

And then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks.

Her fingers trembling, she bit her lower lip and stared at a building off to the side of the street. Meryl glanced over to see the town jailhouse. "What's wrong, Milly?"

The big girl stood there, blubbering, frozen in her tracks. She gazed at the limestone building as tears started to spring up in her eyes. Her breath quickened. "I just remembered why we met Mr. Vash in the first place," she whispered.

At first, Meryl didn't understand what the big deal was. Vash had been an assignment. She and Milly had been searching for a man with a sixty billion double-dollar bounty on his head, a man so dangerous he could topple entire cities in a matter of a few seconds. But Vash hadn't been the man they had expected. He was gentler and more kind-hearted then most people she knew, almost more so than Milly.

But then she realized what Meryl was staring at. A penciled image of the man she knew, the spiked devil in red, hiding behind yellow sunglasses. She read it aloud: "Wanted, Dead or Alive. Vash the Stampede. $$60,000,000 Reward."

Meryl clutched a fist to her heart, fighting off the tears that wanted to come.

Her eyes turned to Vash. He had gone on several more paces, and was standing away from them now, staring off to the west. She knew he was struggling with his own personal demons. They were the demons she had seen only a few times in her life. She sighed. It seemed the past refused to be left behind.

_Damn it all,_ she thought, and turned toward the jail. She walked right up to the poster and tore it down. With a look of determination, she ripped the paper into four equal pieces and shoved it into her pocket.

A huge smile broke on Milly's face as she watched Meryl do something that was very un-Meryl, and her heart glowed brilliantly at the action. Even Vash turned, eyes wide as he realized what his friend had done.

Meryl moved back over to Milly and rested a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, Milly. Vash is here and there's nothing that can change that now, not even that stupid bounty, okay?"

"Oh Meryl!" The big girl dove into her best friend's arm, giving her the same smothering hug that she'd forced on Vash earlier that day. Forgetting her strength, she lifted Meryl off her feet and spun her around. "Thank you, thank you!"

Meryl struggled, but she didn't have near the stamina as Vash, and it showed as she let Milly toss her about like a rag doll. Gasping for air, Meryl tried to push away. "Milly! Put…me…d…down!"

"Oh! Sorry, Meryl." She let her friend go, and Meryl struggled to keep her footing. Right away she started to help her friend brush the dirt from her white cape.

Vash smiled. "Hey, Milly. Didn't you have groceries earlier?"

Meryl tugged on her collar, loosening her necktie, trying to catch her breath.

"Groceries?" Milly asked. She shot Meryl a glance and started to whimper once more. She looked about, a little stunned, and realized that the fountain was nowhere to be seen. "My pudding!" She turned and darted away, disappearing down the street.

Vash had to chuckle as he joined Meryl's side, gazing down to her. "She really hasn't changed, has she?"

Meryl smiled. "No. She's still the same old Milly. She's my iron heart."

The Humanoid Typhoon nodded. "Yeah, I suppose she is."

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Have you changed, Vash?"

He wet his lips, looking at her. He wondered how he supposed to answer that question. He had changed, and yet he was still the same guy, the same legendary freak that forced men to turn from him on a dime and run screaming for the hills. They thought him a killer, when the truth was so many more would have died without Vash the Stampede's presence in their lonely world.

"I guess that depends on how you want to remember me," he said after a moment's serious contemplation. "One thing I do know, I'm through with the past. The only one who can shape my destiny is me."

Meryl grinned, more than satisfied with the answer. She could see the debate raging within him, and something in his voice made her wonder what all had happened in the past year, wished she could have been there to help him. Though that would have been impossible. She didn't know what had happened between Vash and his brother, but she knew it must have seemed an impossible situation for the gunman. It must have been very hard on him.

Still, knowing that he had accepted that his life was his own to lead made her a happy woman. She took his hand, giving him her finest smile.

"We remember the person we want to remember when what we should remember is the person who is right before our eyes," Meryl said. "Just as long as you remember who your are, Vash, you'll be just fine."

He looked at her, a bit surprised by her response. There it was again, the resemblance to the woman he had known all those years ago. "Remind me to tell you of Rem someday. I think you deserve it."

She vaguely remembered the name, from that day he told her the truth, more than a year ago. That had been the time just before Legato had ensnared them to use against Vash, forcing him to squeeze the trigger and kill him, or relinquish her life, and Milly's. Vash had pulled the trigger, saved the girls, but it had torn him up inside.

Rem was a woman from his past, the woman who had made him the man he was.

The gunman turned from her, staring again to the west. Meryl watched his features as he breathed in the fresh air. Things really seemed to be different this time around. He seemed at ease with her. His heart was finally open to her, and that brought her resounding happiness. _Have you been lonely all this time, Vash?_ she wondered.

"Remember that day I said you couldn't go with me anymore?" he asked.

"Of course," she murmured. "How could I forget?"

"I think I finally found what I was looking for, way back then," he whispered, "and I want you to forget every word I told you."

Her breath caught. _Forget every word?_

He looked to her, smiling his truest smile. Suddenly he reached down and took her hands in his. "I'm through with being alone. Alone is overrated. I don't want to be that man posted on every wall in every jailhouse and general store on the planet. I want to _live_, Meryl. And I want you and Milly to feel free to come with me."

He drew a deep breath, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. They didn't fall, but they were there. His smile was unwavering as he gauged her reaction.

She didn't say anything. She simply stared.

"Meryl?"

And then she nodded.

"Okay."

It was all she needed to say.


	8. Chapter Six

SIX: plush ducky

And suddenly, the tears came. They rushed down his face in torrents as he crushed her unexpectedly into a hug even tighter than the hugs that Milly reserved for just such occasions. A very familiar voice, filled with childlike innocence, really unbefitting a man of over one hundred thirty years.

"Oh, thank you!" he cried out, for all to hear. "This is the greatest day of my life! I feel so young again!" She had heard it before, but she still blushed, like always. His grin, however, filled her with hope. "I can't believe this is really happening!"

"Just learn to believe," she whispered, her lips close to his ear. A year ago she would have struggled. Now she was more reserved. "That's all it really takes."

He looked to her and set her down. The uncontrollable joy that had taken hold a moment ago was replaced by a more reserved Vash the Stampede. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

"I guess I never really thought about it," he admitted.

Meryl blushed. At times Vash reminded her of Milly, and on occasion times, he reminded her of herself. And then there were times when he was like no other individual she had ever met. It was amazing to her that she could understand him at all. But she had gotten used to him, and she had grown to care for him very much.

Lifting a hand to her face, she brushed her long bangs out of her eyes and smiled up to him. She opened her mouth to speak, but she was at a loss for words.

He smiled, and calmed himself. His eyes studied the delicate features of her face. _I've always known I had a guardian angel watching over me. I just didn't realize she was going to send me you._

It was a preposterous notion, really, but it made him feel so wonderful inside, that knowing her had been so much more than mere coincidence. Rem's teachings alone were proof enough of that. He drew a deep breath and gazed past her, toward town square.

"Maybe we should go find her," he said after a time.

Meryl nodded. "All right."

Together, they started down the path Milly had taken. If she knew anything about these towns she felt almost sure that someone had probably grabbed the groceries, which meant her book was probably long gone. That left Meryl one option. "I think we should stop by a store. The people here are well off, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't take advantage of a lonesome bag of groceries."

She paused a moment, almost sure she would find her friend in tears when they arrived back at the fountain. That wasn't an image she really cared to see right now. "Why don't you go find Milly, and I'll meet you at the fountain." She gave him one of her smiles before she left him to go off towards the store.

In only the few minutes that they had been reunited, he could tell the past year had changed Meryl in many ways. Somewhere along the line she had learned that it wasn't about taking care of yourself; you had to be there for everyone you cared about. The thought made Vash smile as he watched after her. She expanded herself in a way that Vash found to be ever-changing, as Rem had been. After all that she had gone through, with or without him, Vash realized that she had learned to survive after all.

With a smile, the Humanoid Typhoon headed back toward the fountain. Milly would be waiting there, with or without the groceries. For the first time in ages, his day was calm, though the storm itself had lasted since that day Legato Bluesummers had framed him for the murder of a boot maker.

Children darted past, frantically trying to nab his attention. Vash simply smiled and gave them a parting wave as he continued toward the fountain. Soon, he saw here there, slumped over on the limestone bench. As he'd expected, no groceries could be found. He assumed that was why the tears were threatening to overwhelm his friend. He headed over to cheer her up.

He stood next to her, gazing appreciatively down at her. He lay a hand on her shoulder and smiled. She looked so vulnerable, despite her large frame. "It's all right, Milly. I've got some cash. We can always get more pudding."

"It's not the pudding," she said, her words nearly drowning in her tears. "I…it's just…I don't like to fail, Vash, yet sometimes it seems all I'm capable of doing. I let Meryl down again."

Vash nodded, understanding. Meryl couldn't possibly be a very easy girl to please, and failure only made it ten times worse.

"I don't like failing her, Vash. It makes my head hurt."

Vash knelt next to her and took her hand, swiping his free hand in the dirt quickly, a movement she wasn't likely to see beyond her tears. He set his hand on her shoulder, a friendly smile on his face. "No, you couldn't fail her, Milly. You make her happy, and that's all that matters, right?"

She blubbered. "I guess so."

A movement too quick to judge followed; he flicked his wrist toward her, flinging something into the air with his thumb. Vash didn't have to follow the projectile; he knew how accurate his aim was.

Milly didn't see the young man being struck in the back of the head with a small rock, knocking him flat. Vash's eyes were too intense as they focused on her. She couldn't look away. She never saw the thief drop her stolen goods.

"Hey, look at that," Vash started. Milly jerked a little, turning her eyes to follow his line of sight. "That nice young man found your groceries for you."

He stood and sauntered over to the surprised thief who was at present rubbing the swell rising on the back of his head. He gathered up the groceries—two dozen cans of pudding, a package of sandwich meats, cheese, a bruised tomato, a jar of mustard, and lettuce. And, of course, a worn, leather-bound book. _Yeah, this is Milly's all right._

"Thanks for keeping an eye on our dinner, slick," he said quietly. "I really appreciate it." He eyed the man for a moment and then whispered, "Doesn't look too bad. Sorry I had to do that, but you didn't give me much of a choice."

He returned to Milly with an armload of groceries and a pleasant smile on his face. In the meantime, the little thief darted away into the crowd of people.

Milly's smile had suddenly returned, and it made Vash's heart soar.

----------

Meryl came walking down the road not long after the thief had departed in a hurry to get away from Vash. In one arm she held a small bag for Milly, hoping it would make her smile. She hated seeing Milly said; it broke her heart. After all, Milly was much like a sister for her, the only true sister she had ever had, not to mention she was all Meryl had nowadays.

As she approached them, she noticed that there was a brown paper bag set between Vash and Milly as the sat at the fountain, waiting. She breathed a sigh of relief as she approached. Maybe her book was still there, too.

"I see everything is still here," she commented lightly as she approached.

"Just about." He reached into the bag and drew something out. "Oh, here… I think this is yours, Meryl."

Indeed it was the book she'd been reading earlier. She vaguely remembered putting it in the bag shortly after Milly met her that morning, in the moments just before Vash had walked back into their lives. Smiling, she sat next to him; Vash characteristically tried to sneak a peak into the bag Meryl had brought. With a teasing grin, she held it just out of his view.

"So, whatcha got there?"

"Patience, you lug," she said, though she didn't mean it in a demeaning way. Her smile showed him just how glad she was to have him back. "Milly?"

She could see the fresh tears lingering in the big girl's eyes, though she wasn't yet crying. Drying her eyes, Milly tried to force the demons from her system. "I was so afraid I let you down, Meryl. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to forget our dinner. It just…slipped my mind, I guess." She sighed, trying to remain calm. Her eyes were locked on the dirt at her feet, unable to look Meryl in the face.

"It's all right Milly. The groceries aren't gone, are they? Everything's just fine." She impressed herself sometimes. A year or two ago, she would have probably had a few choice words with her big friend. Something along the line of keeping her head on her shoulders. If she let her mind slip and lost a simple bag of groceries, what other, worse situations could pop up the next time? But Meryl knew it was pointless to get on her case now. It was over, and besides, she didn't like hurting Milly's feelings. That was simply a crime against humanity. "Here, I bought you both a little something…"

She reached into the bag and pulled out a smaller bundle, which she handed to Vash. "These are for you," she said.

"All right! Thanks."

Meryl grinned and reached back inside the bag to pull out a small box, which she handed to Milly. "What is it?" the big girl asked.

"You'll just have to open it and find out."

Meryl was in an especially good mood this morning. She'd gone into the store with the intentions of just picking up enough to make some sandwiches, but instead she had picked out two gifts that she had known would be hits. Shopping for Vash and Milly wasn't exactly the hardest thing she had ever had to do.

"Wow!" Vash stuffed an entire donut into his mouth. "You sure do know how to make a guy feel lucky!"

Meryl thought it was amusing that somehow, he didn't spray her with pieces of donut as he talked with his mouth full. There was so much about the man she didn't understand, but this was one thing she had gotten used to. He had been so strange when she had first met him, nearly—what, had that really been nearly three years ago—that Meryl had difficulty believing that he was really Vash the Stampede, the notorious sixty billion double-dollar outlaw. Of course, that had been the idea. He hadn't been comfortable with people knowing what Vash the Stampede actually looked like. Meryl had gotten over the awkward farce long ago and now saw him for who he really was, and somehow, it made him feel at ease with the world around him.

He closed the tiny bundle. "I'll save the rest for later," he announced. "I just ate ten on my own. Just make sure I don't sit on them."

Meryl chuckled. "Just be sure you enjoy them, that's all I ask."

"I did. It was scrumptious, really."

The legendary gunman turned his gaze to Milly, who was presently trying to figure out the packing tape that held her gift closed airtight in the tiny box. He whipped out a knife and sliced through it for her. Milly opened the box and peered inside, and immediately started to giggle like a schoolgirl. She plucked out the little plush ducky Meryl had chosen for her and held it to her chest in one of her enormous, bone-crushing hugs. Vash had to grin at the sight.

Meryl smiled too. "So, who wants sandwiches?" she asked.

----------

They spent what was left of the morning and an entire afternoon about the town, talking amongst themselves and mingling with the children. Vash and Milly even managed to drag an unsuspecting Meryl into a game of kickball. She was unconvinced she should join them at first, but she soon changed her tune, laughing along with the with the rest of them. The game took up most of the afternoon and zapped nearly all of Meryl's energy. She wasn't surprised at Vash's supply, but Milly's stamina was simply amazing. How could so big a girl expend so much energy and still have so much left in her tank?

Eventually, the three of them bid the children a fond farewell—after Vash bought ice-cream for all, of course—and returned to the fountain to relax.

"Now that was a blast," Vash said as he flopped down there at the limestone bench. Meryl joined him, and Milly found her place between them.

"No kidding!" Milly laughed. "Too bad we had to stop! Don'tcha think, Meryl?"

Meryl gawked at her. "I hope you're kidding, Milly. I'm pooped!"

Vash grinned and shook his head. "So, do you girls have a place to stay tonight? I mean, maybe we should room together, if you don't mind."

"That sounds _wonderful_, doesn't it Meryl? Let's do it!"

Meryl frowned slightly and searched her pockets. There were just a few coins in the bottom of one pocket. The other was as empty as Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards. She sighed. "I think we might be staying in the thomas stables tonight," she said quietly.

"Nonsense," Vash said. "It's my treat this time. There's an old inn on the edge of town where I came in this morning. Looked like a pretty decent place." He shot Milly his best grin. "They have a saloon on the ground level and the people there seemed to be having a blast!"

He saw Milly's eyes light up. "Hey, Mr. Vash! That gives me a wild idea!"

Meryl put a hand to her temple and groaned. She didn't like the sound of Milly's voice when she said that, but she didn't say anything. Her mind raced with horror at all the "ideas" that Milly might be considering at this moment.

"And what's that?" Vash asked.

"Let's go have a few drinks!"

_Drinks?_ Vash grinned. "That sounds like a great idea."

"A few drinks?" Meryl put her hand to her face, groaning. Milly was already up and strolling away as if she knew exactly where she was headed. "Milly! That is _not_ a great idea, Vash!" She actually punched his arm, and then called after her friend, but Milly was too far away and couldn't hear her. Meryl stuck a finger square into Vash's chest, giving him her most stern glare. "You! Don't you _dare_ put any of those ideas into her head that she can have a drink whenever she wants! We can't afford it, and she doesn't handle booze all that well."

He smiled. "Relax, Meryl. It'll be okay. I'll buy, okay?"

Meryl groaned, and then actually laughed.

"What?"

She shook her head, gazing up to him with a sparkle in her violet eyes. "I was just thinking. You know, a grown girl carting a stuffed ducky to a saloon to get plastered. I was just thinking that would really be a sight to see."

Vash laughed. "Yeah, I guess it would."

Meryl shook her head, giving him a look. "I still don't think this is the smartest thing to do, but I guess I'll let you two have your fun. I mean, it's been a year, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it has."

She picked up her book and watched as Vash picked up the bag with Milly's pudding. "Just make sure you watch yourself tonight. Set a good example for her."

"Hey, you know me."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Vash."

He gave her his best smile, the smile that Wolfwood had treasured, and then grabbed her arm and carted her off after Milly, toward the inn.

"Whoa! Vash, slow down!"

But he wasn't paying any attention right now. When Vash the Stampede had his mind set on something, he was dead set on getting it done.

And right now, he was dead set on drinking.

----------

Sixty iles away, a man on a motorcycle rolled into the town of Devil's Bluff, long, blond hair whipping in the breeze, clad in a black suit. He watched the evening sun as it dipped down closer to the western horizon, and pulled up next to a limestone building with a pair tattered doors that barely clung to their hinges.

He picked out a fresh cigarette from his near-empty pack and lit it with a match. Then he rose, kicked open the doors, and strolled on in as though he owned the place.

"Barkeep, give me a bottle of tequila and a glass with ice. Price isn't a concern."

He flopped down onto a barstool and peered quietly about the place. It was empty, surprisingly considering the number of men he had seen wandering about town as he came in. Apparently it wasn't a big drinking night in Devil's Bluff. All the better. He didn't really care to run into a hoard of drunks this evening. He wanted to be the only one drinking his life away tonight.

"Eh, sure thing, kid," the husky barkeep replied, coming over with a bottle and a tall glass, filled to the brim with ice. Elderly eyes perused the stranger as he slid the purchase over the counter. "New here, ain't ya?"

The man nodded to the barkeep. He took a long drag of his cigarette and poured himself his first drink. "Yeah. But I've been around the block a few times, so new things don't bother me all that much." He pointed his cigarette at the man. "You look like a fellow who knows your shit. I heard a rumor a few weeks back of a man in a red coat who came through here."

A puff of smoke escaped his lungs as he tapped the excess ashes into a nearby ashtray. Green eyes peered up to the barkeep, intelligent eyes that told the old man that he didn't take shit from anyone, and he'd didn't give it, either. He was straightforward or he didn't talk at all.

"You mean him?" The barkeep thrust his thumb toward a poster on a door behind him. Sure enough, the paper bore the image of his target and the lofty reward in big, bold print just beneath it. "Can't say as I recall a red coat, but doesn't mean he wasn't here. I believe I saw 'im not too long ago. Two or three weeks tops. But he didn't wear red."

The young man nodded and downed a gulp of his drink. "That's him all right." He finished off his cigarette and stamped out the butt in the ashtray. "Vash the Stampede. I want to know where he was headed."

"Rumor has it he was spotted in Black Rock a few weeks ago. Sixty iles or so to the north." The old man gave the boy a look. He couldn't be any more than twenty years old, and here he was, talking about Vash the Stampede. Was this youngster a bounty hunter? "Apparently he left here without saying a word. Only wanted to take a look at the local plant. Though I never quite understood the matter."

The barkeep grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the counter.

"Man mighta looked like the poster, but he sure didn't act like a sixty billion double-dollar killer. He was more like a happy-go-lucky peacekeeper. At least, that's what Wanda said. She's my daughter. About your age, actually."

The young man grunted. So Vash had apparently been here. That was all he really cared to know. He didn't care to hear what everyone else thought of him. The stories were enough for him. The fallen city of July. The people rendered homeless in Fernarl. The hole carved into the face of the Fifth Moon. That was really all he needed to know. He downed the last of his drink and grabbed for the bottle.

"So, do you have a dinner menu in this place?"


	9. Chapter Seven

SEVEN: real cowboys

Milly's duck sat on the counter next to her. Already her head was on the counter as she mumbled softly, chewing at a mouthful of her own hair. Meryl would have laughed if it hadn't looked so pathetic. She knew how many stares Milly had received since coming in. Meryl had been right; it was pretty amusing to see Milly and her plush ducky. Despite how pathetic the trio may appear, she was happy to have this man next to her. It brought peace to her heart to know that he was here.

She didn't feel much like laughing, anyway. She was busy staring down at the half-full glass in her hand, thinking back to how he had coaxed her into a drink.

_Ah, come on, Meryl. Don't be a sourpuss. What could happen?_

A sourpuss? Was that what he thought of her? Maybe that was what he saw in her whenever he was looking to have a little fun. Maybe that was what Milly saw in her. Well, not tonight. She had decided that she was going to have every bit as much fun as her companions. And so she had taken three drinks.

_Way to go, Meryl. You idiot._

She groaned a little and pushed the glass away. She was going to regret this in the morning. Meanwhile, Vash downed one more glass like a pro. He plucked a few beer nuts from a nearby bowl and popped them into his mouth.

The best part of the whole thing, as far as Meryl was concerned, had been her toast for the evening. _To finding old friends._ Milly had glowed at that prospect and had almost violently tapped her glass to Meryl's. It was amazing that both glasses were still somehow intact. Vash had added his own bit of wisdom to her toast. "To new promises," she whispered, recalling his simple words. He glanced to her questioningly, but she didn't feel the need to elaborate. She simply smiled and grabbed a beer nut, looking away. All the while, she wondered exactly what new promises he had spoken of.

A high-pitched, slurred voice broke the muffled din of the saloon: "You see, Mr. Ducky…the world is…better place…Vash the Stampede… Would you…like to play…his kitty?" Everyone in the room gave the odd, drunken girl another stare. Meryl rolled her eyes, stifling a laugh with the back of her hand. She had lost count of Milly's intake, but it had been approaching ten glasses.

She had been ready to put an end to her friend's drinking when Milly fell asleep, right in the middle of an unintelligible song that lasted a grand total of five seconds. They let the big girl sleep, and Meryl and Vash continued to drink. While he could drink with the best of them when he felt like it, Meryl had only sipped on a few drinks, despite the fact that she had known it would be her downfall in the morning.

After a time, as Vash twirled last few chunks of melting ice in the bottom of his empty glass, he sighed and revealed a little of what had been troubling him since that morning. "I didn't realize the rumor would spread so quickly," he admitted. "I mean, I only saw one other person in the desert for four thousand iles. And that was nearly the span of a year. How one man could have possibly told anyone where I was headed is beyond me. I don't think I even told _him_ that."

Meryl glanced over to him. Her smile withered a little, her heart aching a little for him. "People all need something to talk about. You were the hot topic for nearly a quarter of a century, Vash. It's no wonder why it hasn't changed over the past year." Slowly, she fingered the condensation on her empty glass, gazing up to him.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. It's just so damn hard sometimes."

He looked to the bottle and shook his head. Suddenly, he wasn't very thirsty anymore. He picked at a nook in the bar counter. _The hot topic,_ he thought. He'd always hated the nickname dubbed to him—Vash the Stampede—but at the same time it had helped him to deliver safe conclusions to the people he touched.

He sighed. _Even Knives had been touched, in the end. He told me that himself, right before I turned and walked away._

Meryl watched him quietly and took his hand in hers. He squeezed it and looked down at her. She could see his composure deteriorating before her eyes, and she felt powerless to help.

"You can tell me what's troubling you," she said. "I'm your friend. I'll be here to help you through thick or thin, if you'd let me."

He sighed, and then smiled. He was about to tell her that he would be okay when a far away sound came to his ear. It was a sound that was familiar despite its impossibility. He only knew he had heard it before. He quickly searched his memory for the origin of his recognition, and the realization that came to him made him stiffen.

SEEDS.

He relaxed and drew a deep breath. He knew Meryl couldn't hear the sound. No one here could. It was too distant, though he could hear it as if it were right here beside them. All that he knew was that if he heard what he was certain he heard, no good could ever come of it.

He pulled out a handful of coins and pressed them into Meryl's hand. "Here, get a room for three. I've got something I wanna check out."

Meryl blinked and nodded. She watched him leave, questions in her eyes, but she didn't follow. He had told her to ask for a room for three. That meant he was coming back. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

_Our lives were greatly improved when that walking disaster finally faded away._

Was that what she had written in her diary?

She wondered just what the hell she'd been thinking.

Next to her, Milly stirred. "I don't feel like going' to the circus today, Mommy." Somehow, she didn't wake.

Meryl groaned, and rested her head in her hands.

----------

Faye stared down at the town below as she flew the _Redtail_ overhead. It was like something out of those old westerns Jet watched sometimes. _Those are real cowboys,_ he insisted. John Wayne. Clint Eastwood. Jimmy Stewart. Whoever the hell they were. If a place like this was supposed to be the environment of real cowboys, Faye didn't want anything to do with them. They sure had pretty piss-poor living conditions. Not that it was so much better off on the _Bebop_, but at least a ship could go places that were better off.

She brought her ship around and picked a spot in the desert outside of town. Fearing that someone might take an interest in her private ship, she landed behind just beyond a groove where her ship was well-hidden from eyes that wandered from the town out into the expansive desert.

She cursed as she hopped down and sent sand shooting out in all direction. She certainly wasn't dressed very well for such horrible conditions. Sand could get anywhere it damn well pleased, and it seemed especially attracted to her shorts. She itched something terrible in places she couldn't scratch in public.

_Damnit, if only I were a man,_ she thought, and made her way toward the town.

She soon found herself in the outskirts of town, shaking her head in disgust. She watched for signs of life, and decided that any real life couldn't possibly be made out here. "Well isn't this town a total piece of sh…" She was interrupted by sounds coming from a nearby building. She immediately determined that she had discovered a local bar. She smirked. "I guess in these here parts it'd be called a saloon," she said sarcastically, and started toward it.

She frowned as she spotted a man in the shadows, just outside the saloon. He stood there, long blond hair and a stubbled chin, draped in a long, brown poncho. A poncho, for Christ's sake. _I feel like I've gone through a fucking time warp._

In her most sensual voice, and spoke to him. "Excuse me, but could you tell me where I could find some food and water? My partners and I crashed our ship out in the desert and we _desperately_ need help." She continued to speak as she walked right up to him, hips swaying from side to side, and stood in a vulnerable position, making sure her skin showed in all the right places. "We…_I_ would sure appreciate it if you lent us a hand."

As she had anticipated, he stared at her with his mouth opened. He closed his eyes. She smirked as she visualized him picked his jaw up off the dusty street.

"If you don't mind me asking," he started after a moment, his voice very low, very deep. He opened his eyes and risked another glance at the young woman, and was somehow able to keep from drooling all over himself. She arched her brow, finding the whole situation quite humorous. "What kind of ship do you and your partners have? I mean, you really don't look like you're from around here."

Faye blinked. The question surprised her. "Well, we're not. It's a spaceship, actually. What else could it be?" She smiled and moved a little closer to her, then feigned a yawn and stretched as tall as she could, her arms high over her head, giving him a deep view of wholesome cleavage. "My goodness, I'm so tired… I could _really_ use a drink, ya know?" She sighed softly and dropped her arms, resting one on the swell of her hip, which arched toward that side. She slowly lay the other hand against his chest, looking him straight in the eye and smiling seductively. "Is there anyplace around here where a girl can get a drink? I'd be very, _very_ grateful…if you showed me around."

He gazed at her, his breath quickened as he stared at her. He let her rest her hand against his chest and play her fingers against the brown poncho.

"A…d…drink?" he stammered. "Uh…I don't…well…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She thought he might be gathering his bearings, a good sign that he might have fallen, hook, line, and sinker. Faye smirked.

But then he opened his eyes and fixed her with a piercing stare. Faye actually flinched. _What the hell?_ Those eyes, those intense green eyes that had only a moment before been so helplessly entrapped by every sultry curve, every seductive word, held her in an all-encompassing, iron glare.

No longer feeling very sexy, having lost her strongest advantage in this strange world, Faye slunk away from him.

"Listen lady, I don't now where you came from, but there hasn't been a flyable spaceship on this planet since I got here, and that was a hell of a long time ago."

Faye paled at his words. "No ship?"

_Oh shit_.

She made a mental note to kill Jet when she got back.

----------

It had taken nearly fifteen minutes to get Milly into bed, and already Meryl wanted to join her in her blissful sleep. It had been a troublesome chore, moving a drunk girl nearly twice her size, but she had managed, in between fits of drunken sleep, and the one time she had actually awakened, she had attempted to drag Meryl right back to the bar. But Meryl was determined and eventually she had gotten her partner up the stairs and into their room. After helping Milly into her nightgown, the girl had instantly collapsed into the big bed and sprawled out across the entire mattress.

Meryl had to smile, and then wiped the sweat from her brow. It was so god awful hot in this place. Well, it was probably the work, or maybe even the three drinks she had forced down her throat. _A sourpuss. Hell yeah, and now I know why._ She rubbed her temple, trying to soothe the beginnings of a headache that now started to pulse through her spine. She wouldn't be drinking again for quite some time.

She would have changed and joined Milly in bed, but there wasn't a place for her and now that Milly was comfortable—so comfortable that she was sawing logs like never before—Meryl would never be able to move her.

She looked about. The room was small for three people, but it would do. There was a chair in the corner that Vash could take. If she couldn't get into the bed with Milly she'd just find herself on the floor by the radiator. She'd slept on the hard floor before, and it should be warm enough there.

She brushed the sweaty strands of hair from Milly's eyes and gave the big girl a kiss on the forehead. Milly loved to be tucked in, and Meryl had gotten used to this sort of thing. It actually soothed her thoughts and her headache faded, if only for a short time.

She turned and headed for the door. She opened it, checking to see that the key was still in her pocket. It was.

Just as she was about to leave, she heard Milly stir from the bed. "Meryl?"

She waited in the doorway. "What is it Milly?"

The big girl's voice came in the form of a sigh, so soft it was barely audible. "Mr. Vash won't leave us anymore, will he? You won't let him leave?"

"I don't know, Milly," she replied, not even looking back. "I really don't. I hope he'll stay. I want him to, but we can't force him to."

Milly mumbled something else, but it was entirely incoherent.

Meryl sighed. "Good night."

And then she left.

----------

A soft ringing sound interrupted the brutal silence between the two, and the girl started to turn from him. She searched her pockets for something, looking somehow surprised, and pulled a little black box from her shorts. Vash watched, his face set in his most serious, stern expression.

She glanced at him, almost apologetically. "One moment, hon," she said sweetly. She flipped open the devise and pressed it to her ear. "What?"

_Lost technology,_ he realized. She had dismissed him sweetly—the sort of fake, honey-sweet tone when in truth the annoyance and sarcasm is as thick as the sweltering heat of desert afternoon during the summer.

This was a little awkward. Hell, it was awkward to the extreme. This woman was obviously not dressed for the desert. She'd never fit in here. She wasn't from this place, like the people whose ancestors had made their way across space 132 years ago. There was no doubt she was human, probably even from that same place from where Project SEEDS had originated. Still, that didn't change the fact that he was concerned, both for the people who already lived here and the group this woman was affiliated to.

Who was this mysterious woman, scantily clad in yellow? Where had she come from? Most importantly, why was she here?

He found himself questioning if her ship had truly crashed.

The young woman was focused on whatever was being said over the phone. Whatever was being said had her excited.

"Great!" she exclaimed finally. She shot him another fake, honey-sweet smile and lowered her voice. "Where is this seed so we can get the hell off this rock?"

He heard the question despite her low voice.

_SEED._

His eyes focused on her, though he didn't think she noticed.

She was too busy listening to the phone with a huge, shit-eating grin. "Yes, Ed did good! I'll get some food and come right back, all right?" She paused, and laughed. "Okay. See you soon." She closed the phone and returned her gaze to him. He returned his gaze to her chest, trying to mask his concern. This way, maybe he could at least play the part of the Humanoid Typhoon and hide his true concerns. "Now where were we?" she asked.

Vash crossed his arms, gazing at her. "You were about to tell me just exactly who you are and how you got here," he started. A huge grin exploded across his face and the childish womanizer in him popped free. "Then I was gonna buy you a drink, remember?"

In that moment, he sensed someone in the doorway behind him. "Vash?" When he glanced back, there was no one there. He could hear the delicate sound of boots padding softly away. _Damnit, that was Meryl. I hope she doesn't have the wrong idea about all this._ He shook his thoughts away and went back to staring at the woman before him.

She let the sly smile slide across her lips as she nodded. "Right. I'm Faye." She paused, as if deciding what she should tell him about her being here. "I'm in town for groceries. Know of any place still open?"

_Ah, introductions!_ Vash stood tall and proud, his chin high. "My name is Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser the Third!" he announced. The look of shock that crossed her face was hilarious, but Vash could understand her confusion. "I'll be your chaperone this evening, Madame!"

Deep inside, frustrations were mounting for the Humanoid Typhoon. Every time something of great importance came up, Vash refused to allow himself to show anything of his true nature. If the world was on its last legs, he would be there, but he couldn't let the rest of the world know the truth of it. Narrowing his eyes, Vash determined that he couldn't let this woman out of his sight.

He grabbed Faye's arm and started to drag her down the street, intent on leading her to the nearest general store. He showed her nothing of his serious side, acting like a playful puppy whose only interest was the girl next to him. He refused to lend her any cause for suspicion other than the conclusion Meryl had drawn upon their first meeting: that he was a bona fide idiot.

"I'm sure the general store's open until dark. Let's go see what they have." He paused briefly, and glanced over to her. He could see she was struggling to keep up, using her free hand to brush her hair from her eyes. "You don't have any money, do you?"

Faye blushed. "Well, no. We have wulongs, but I'm guessing you don't deal with that kind of currency." His black stare was more than enough to confirm her suspicion. She straightened and offered a bright smile. She turned shoulder toward him, her left breast coming dangerously close to spilling free of her skimpy, yellow jacket. "But I'm sure we can work somethin' out."

Vash swallowed. "Yeah, I think I have some cash on me."

----------

Adjusting her jacket so it more properly covered her bosom, Faye made her way slowly through the aisles of the general store, grabbing what looked good and easy to make. Mostly canned goods. Soups and vegetables. There were some pastas and breads that caught her eye. Even some fresh fruits and vegetables. How they grew such things in a place like this was beyond her, but it was here and it looked good.

She considered the girl she had seen in the doorway of the saloon, where she had run into this nutcase. She had called him Vash, hadn't she? Oh well. She hadn't been around long enough for introductions, so it really didn't matter. All she knew was that she could leech off him for food. That was really all that was important, right?

What an idiot. What had been the deal with the huge name he'd felt obliged to share? Damnit, he was as annoying as…as annoying as Spike! So annoying she thought she might actually strangle him. Hell, she barely knew the guy! She wondered what dumb bimbo, if any, would be unlucky enough to get caught up in any type of a relationship with him. _Why do I always get stuck in these situations? Damnit, I'm gonna to kill you, Jet._

At the front of the store, she heard his voice.

"Excuse me, sir? How much for–"

He was interrupted by the clerk, who turned to see him. "Uh…uh…uh…you're…"

"What? Come on, man, I just want a bar of chocolate."

"Take it! Take it and go, please!"

"Just hold your horses, will you?"

"But you're V…Vash the Stampede!"

"Oh, do you really have to shout? It'll just be a minute. My friend is over there shopping, and then we'll be on our way."

Faye watched the conversation from a distance, no doubt very curious. Why was the clerk so scared of this man? She'd seen nothing in him other than the complete idiot that he seemed to be. She took a deep breath and let her eyes follow the room. Something about this man seemed so…well…out of the ordinary.

She let her eyes go to a wanted poster on the wall she had noticed when she came in. Before, she really hadn't paid much attention to it, but now she did. She felt a shiver trickle up her spine when she read the poster. _Wanted, Dead or Alive. Vash the Stampede. $$60,000,000,000 Reward._ Slowly, her eyes went to the man at the counter. He was alone. Apparently, the clerk had fled.

_It's him._ She smirked. So there was hope for this shithole of a town, after all. _Well I'll be damned. Wait till Jet hear about this one. We may not be taking off so soon after all._ She could already hear the conversation back on the ship. _Sixty billion? What the hell's a double-dollar? Who cares. They're sixty billion of them._

She bent down and picked one more item from the shelf and headed to the front. "Sorry, you know how us girls are. We just love to shop." She grinned up at him and set her basket on the counter. Her eyes darted past him to the sign on the wall. _Yep. Definitely worth looking into._

Vash watched her eyes carefully, and then grinned back at her.

"So, where'd the clerk go?"

He shrugged. "Don't know," he replied. "But I seem to have that affect on people." He glanced at her groceries and determined what he considered a reasonable amount, pulling several wadded bills from his pocket. "Come on, he'll find it."

As they turned to leave, he reached out and grabbed for the poster, tearing it from the wall. He grinned over at her.

"Some people sure do have a lousy taste in art, don't ya think?"

She smirked as he tore the poster from the wall. One more piece of evidence that this was her bounty head. _He doesn't look quite right. He doesn't act like a ferocious outlaw, either. But he looks close enough. Why else would he destroy the poster? That should be enough to turn him in for the bounty. Maybe Jet'll get off my ass for awhile._

"What can you expect in a place this small, right?"

He looked at her. "Right."


	10. Chapter Eight

EIGHT: hard floors

"It was him, Cale! I swear to it, man! Vash the Stampede, in the flesh! He was in my store."

"Cut the shit, Joey. You haven't been able to provide a shred of evidence, you know that? Where was the threat against your life?" The town sheriff gave the general store clerk a sharp look. If there was anything he hated, it was the constant spreading of rumors. For nearly three weeks now, such stories had found his ears, yet each story had been proven to be nothing more than fiction. Even when the story bore some truth, it had been quickly determined that Vash the Stampede had not be involved at all. "Did he at least tell you that was his name?"

"Well, no."

"Did he have a spiked head of hair and a blood-red trench coat?"

"No, but he was tall and blond and he had the devil's confidence in his eyes."

Cale leaned forward, his eyes dark with controlled anger. "I'm pretty tall, and I have blond hair, and when I get angry the devil's hand guides my gun." The sheriff leaned forward. "I'll need a hell of a lot more than that, Joey."

"It's _him_, damnit! You gotta trust me on this!"

"I don't have to trust anything, Joey. You're just being stubborn. Do yourself a favor and take a deep breath. Relax."

"How can I relax knowing that our town has become a safe-haven for a gunman so deadly he could topple entire cities in a matter of moments?" Cale leaned back and sighed heavily. This was going to be a long night. His brother was certainly going to see to that. "You know, he certainly didn't _deny_ anything."

Cale shot him a look. "All right, all right," he said, a sigh revealing his disgust at the situation. "I'll look into it, okay. Any clue where this mystery man ended up?"

"I followed him over to Harvey's tavern," the general store clerk replied. "Apparently he's stayin' with the two girls who wandered into town yesterday."

This caught Cale's attention. "You mean the girls who came in to follow up on the original Vash rumor?"

"That's them," Joey replied.

Cale McBride was a ruffian at heart, but that didn't change the fact that he was the sheriff of this Godforsaken town, and it was his solemn duty to see that the real hooligans of this world didn't turn his town into their own personal hellhole. That alone was the reason he'd posted the sign in the window of the jailhouse—a sign he had replaced once already today. "Shit."

Joey grinned. "That's what I said."

Cale gave his brother a look. Though he had already been in a dark mood despite Joey's arrival, the nervous banter of his brother only made it worse. He didn't like to be put into uncomfortable situations, and here he was, smack-dab in the middle of the most uncomfortable situation of his life. The rumors of Vash the Stampede's coming was bad enough; he didn't know how he could possibly handle the situation if the real thing actually showed up. He recalled tales of fallen cities, and if the Humanoid Typhoon rolled through town, the whole of Black Rock could be turned into a crater in a matter of minutes. The thought made Cale a nervous wreck.

"Well?" Joey prompted.

Cale rolled his eyes. Why the hell did _he _have to be the one with the badge? He didn't want to die any more than the next guy, and a confrontation with Vash the Stampede signified certain doom. A month ago, this job had seemed to be a wonderful thing—free meals, free booze, peace and quiet whenever he desired. Of course, that had been before the rumors started to spread. "Harvey's tavern, you said?"

"That's it. I saw him go in before I came to find you."

"Okay, okay. I'll look into it. Now get the hell out of here." Soon, blissfully, Cale was alone. He opened his bottom desk drawer, to the right. The bottle was still full. He took a quick swig and breathed a heavy sigh. At least he had this sanctuary to lean back on. If that really was Vash the Stampede waiting for him in Harvey's Tavern, he sure as hell wasn't going in sober.

----------

He found her in the bar, alone save the big, friendly barkeep. It seemed that he had offered her all the club soda and Melba toast she could stand. He sunk to her side, gazing into her eyes as he helped himself to one of the crispy snacks. She fingered the cloth napkin set at the bar beside her, thinking about things he wasn't sure he could understand.

"When do we leave?" Meryl asked quietly, and took a sip of her drink.

"Early. I want to be gone by daybreak."

There was a brief silence between them. "What was she like?"

Vash sighed. He'd known it would come to this. "It's not what you think."

She closed her eyes, clenching her fist in anger. "Just who the hell are you to tell me what to think?"

He flinched at her outburst, but he kept his cool and lowered his voice. "Meryl, listen to me. She's an off-worlder." That caught Meryl's attention; she turned to him, eyes wide. He gave her a deadly serious, icy stare. "I don't trust that woman. There are other people apparently stranded here with her. They crashed a spaceship somewhere out in the desert. I think I need to check it out."

She flinched. _A spaceship._ She turned, watching him with concern. "Vash…"

He held up his hand. He had something to get off his chest before she had a chance to argue. "I told you I wanted you to stay with me, but I can't force you to go where I'm going. This may get dangerous. I'm not going to stop you, either, because it's true that we're in this together. If you want to come, I welcome you."

Meryl swallowed. She took all this in with surprise, but she held fast to his arm as he told her that she was welcome to follow him to the depths of his troubles. "Of course we'll come with you. Don't think for a moment you could ever get rid of us that easily." She scooted in a little closer. The strange woman, apparently, had been long forgotten. "We spent a year wondering where you've been, what you've been up to. Both Milly and I, and now that we have you back, we're not so inclined to let you out of our sight. I hope you can understand that."

Vash drew a deep breath. "You want the truth? Meryl, I never once doubted you'd follow. That much is obvious. The truth is I fear what might happen when you do. The truth is that I doubt myself for letting you follow. I think it might be a big mistake." He sighed, and then a smile stretched across his lips. "Above all, the truth is…I couldn't think of a better pair of companions for the journey. And it's really nothing more than that."

She stared at him, and then looked away. "Oh Vash."

He rose from his seat, gazing down on her. "We leave in the morning, before the crack of dawn." He started to leave, but then peered back to see she was still sitting there. "I don't want to risk danger to these people any longer than necessary." He drew a deep breath. "Let's get to bed. There's a long road ahead, and we need to be rested."

She rose and joined his side, the pain of the loneliness that had held her only a few moments ago had finally lifted. "Then come on, Mr. Vash… We can't have you dozing off in the desert when there are us girls to protect." She gave him a sheepish grin and headed for the stairs.

"But Meryl, who's going to protect me from you?" He grinned as he followed her up the stairs.

She laughed. "I think I'd be more concerned about anyone who tries to stop you."

Vash shook his head, still grinning. It was true; he was worried more about those people, too. The idiots that they were, they were still people. No matter how badly they behaved in their lives, they were no less than human beings.

"Don't worry, Vash. I'm sure things will work themselves out eventually."

"With you around, I'm certain of that."

Soon, they came to their room and she pushed the door open. Milly was still sound asleep in the only bed in the room, stretched out across the mattress. Vash looked about. The only other suitable place to sleep was a rather large recliner by the door. "Look, you take the chair. I'll sleep on the floor."

She glanced to Milly and shrugged. "That's all right Vash. You can have the chair." He watched as she grabbed a pillow from Milly and pried it from her grasp. She headed over to the window, next to the radiator. "I'll be fine. I'm used to hard floors." Without giving an explanation, she tossed her pillow there and leaned against the wall. "Night Vash."

He watched her from the shadows for a time. Soon her eyes slid shut and she drifted away from the realm of consciousness. When he was sure she was asleep, he glanced to the recliner. _Like hell._ He headed over to her, trying not to let his boots make too much noise, and sat next to her on the floor. He gazed to her face, drawing very close to her. Watching, waiting. For what, he didn't know.

He only knew how beautiful she looked right now as the soft light of the Fifth Moon cast her face in an angelic glow. Her breaths were calm and slow, comforted by much needed rest. He carefully wrapped one arm around her shoulder, trying not to wake her. She stirred, but did not wake, rolling her head to the side and resting it on his shoulder. She was still and soon fell silent once again.

Vash could remember a time she would have jumped up and screamed at him, demanding to know what he was doing hovering over her. And the truth was, at the time, he probably wouldn't have been able to answer her. He wouldn't have known even if she awoke now. All he knew was that he was somehow drawn to her, a bond stronger than family. He was proud to be her friend. She deserved to have his shoulder to lean on. He had been so frightened to leave them alone back then; who knew if Knives had other Gung-Ho Guns out there, just waiting for him to depart. Apparently, there had been no real reason to fear for the girls' lives.

That didn't mean he didn't feel sorry that he had left them. To this day, this wondrous, glorious day, he had been sad. Now he was with them again, and he felt whole because of them.

He reached down and brushed a strand of dark hair from her brow. He was so happy that she had allowed her hair to grow out. The thought made him smile. A lot really had changed, just as Meryl had said. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

She winced a little, turning toward the kiss, and for a moment he thought she would wake and find him over her, settled down with her in this position on the floor. But she didn't. Her long hair fell across her cheek. It framed her delicate face, making her look younger than she really was. She curled against him, needing his warmth in the cool of the night. Her hand tucked around his arm without her even realizing where she was, or that he was here with her. Rem once spoke of a perfect moment. He wondered if this was it.

Vash knew she would have freaked out if she knew he was so near, and she probably would figure out sooner or later, but for now she seemed at peace with her surroundings. Her breath came slow and calm as she slept against him.

He sat there, deep into the night, thinking. He felt her next to him, curled tightly against his side. It felt good, peaceful. He tried to remember the last time he had slept next to a beautiful woman. _Rem. _That had been when he was only a child, not yet even a year old, after a nightmare had stirred him from sleep one lonely night. Rem had taken him into her bed and cuddled him close, shushing his demons away. Had he known that within a few days, she and the entire crew of the Project SEEDS flagship would be dead, he would have asked her never to let him go.

He heard shuffling somewhere outside. The metallic click of a shotgun being opened and two shells sliding slowly into the chamber. His brow furrowed and he listened. A crate tumbled over, garbage spilling into the alley. Vash rolled his eyes. A drunk with a shotgun? Probably. Oh well. He'd just have to pay attention. Whoever it was breathed like an overweight thomas and was about as graceful, so it wouldn't be difficult to follow his movements, even if he was half asleep.

Meryl stirred next to him, and he looked down. Her eyes fluttered open a little, but she didn't seem to realize that he was here, right next to her. "You're still up…" she mumbled.

"I'm just thinking," he whispered, raking his fingers through her long, silky hair. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when it's time."

"Mmm, you get sleep too, 'kay?" For some reason she nestled tighter to him, as if craving his warmth. It was a little cold, he decided, and so he wrapped his other arm around her and drew her close. There was no need for either to freeze, and apparently the damn radiator didn't plan on working this night.

Without even realizing it, Meryl draped her free arm around his waist and drifted back into the heavenly sleep that held her close to him.

He listened to the drunk in the alley for a few more moments before sleep crept up beside him and took him with her.


	11. Chapter Nine

NINE: baby steps

Faye arrived back at the _Bebop_ late, very late by Jet's standards. She still trembled a little at the strange encounter back in that odd town—Black Rock, was it?—with the man known to the people here as Vash the Stampede.

Her heart raced. He had been so creepy. Faye couldn't really pick out a specific personality that truly fit him, though he certainly didn't seem to be either of the two personalities she had detected. Not entirely, anyway. First off, he'd tried to pass himself off as an idiot, but the way he treated her, almost gentlemanly as well as skeptically, left her skeptical herself. Nor did he seem quite the person she had seen in the general store, the man who the store clerk seemed to be so frightened of. It simply didn't make a hell of a lot of sense. If anything, he seemed to be the kind of man you could trust, the kind of man who would pull over in the middle of a blizzard to help damsel in distress.

_A boy scout,_ Faye mused. _If only the world had more guys like that._

That kind of man was one in a million.

Better than that, he was one in sixty billion.

As she slipped out of the _Redtail_, she was met instantly by Jet Black, covered in grease from head to toe and a gleam in his eyes that indicated he was ready to spit fire. Faye smirked as she eyed the old man.

"Oh my God," Faye murmured as she looked him up and down. "Somebody needs a shower. Jet, you reek!"

"You don't exactly come up smellin' like roses, Faye," Jet grumbled. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Doing exactly what you asked me to do!"

"Right. Well, what about groceries?"

Faye shook her head, and then she smiled her most radiant smile, the same smile she flashed whenever she was cooking up some sort of devilish scheme in that feisty brain of hers. "Forget the fucking groceries, Jet! I've got something sixty billion times better."

Jet arched his brow. "What the hell are you talking about?"

----------

She awoke early, very early, which was quite unusual for her. The pillow was wet again, soaked by tears shed during the night. She didn't know for sure what had brought them to her, but she had a relatively decent idea.

"Oh, Mr. Priest," she murmured.

Milly ran her fingers slowly through the moist fabric. Slowly, gingerly, the big girl pushed herself out of bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. Soon, her tears were forgotten as she noticed the pair huddled in the corner, lost in a restful slumber. She felt so happy for Vash. She was elated for Meryl.

Fresh tears slid down her cheeks, happy tears that she shed for her two best friends in the whole world. Tears she knew that somewhere, up in heaven, her precious Nicholas D. Wolfwood shed right along with her.

With a telltale smile, Milly rose. She washed her face in the washbasin near the window and peered outside. The fifth moon shone brilliantly overhead, the same moon Vash had carved a gaping crater into well over eighteen months ago. It brought sad memories for her, yet she was grateful for every moment.

Milly glanced over to her friends, making sure that the two were still sound asleep, and lifted her nightgown over her head. She changed quickly, contemplating the day's journey. Neither Meryl nor Vash had come out and said anything about leaving today, but somehow she felt they couldn't stay here. She knew that when they rose from their slumber, they would want to be on the road again. She sighed. At least the trip would be easier with Vash the Stampede leading the way.

After she had done some morning chores, like filling the canteens and rationing what little foodstuffs they had left, Milly decided it was time to wake her friends. Slowly, she approached the sleeping couple, still smiling. They both looked so peaceful. It was a wonder, after all she had seen, that Meryl had found such happiness. Especially lying next to _him_. Vash the Stampede, the cause of so much of her troubles. The name that had thrown the entire planet into disarray—if it was the name, at all. From Milly's brief experience, the place had been like this from the beginning.

Oh well. She couldn't let them sleep forever. Besides, she realized this town wasn't going to be very patient for much longer, with Vash present. Not that it mattered to her; she'd follow Vash to the ends of this desolate world, if possible, and by the small smile on her sleeping friend's face, she knew she wouldn't be alone. Kneeling next to Meryl, she reached out and gently shook her shoulder.

"Meryl? Wake up…"

With a yawn, Meryl stirred and tried to lift her hand to her face, but realized that it refused to move. Something held it down a bit. Her eyes fluttered and then slowly slid open. She peered down the length of her arm. Her arm lay across something brown rested against it, and her and feel around the edge of a bend. She blinked slowly. Where was she? Then she saw the other arm, clamped gently to her forearm.

_Huh?_

Suddenly, she was fully awake. She turned to give Milly a started look, close to hyperventilation. As quickly as she could without waking him, she slipped free of Vash's hold. Once she had escaped his embrace, she rolled onto her knees, a hand to her racing heart. Milly took a step back as her partner rose to her feet, running her hand through hair to straighten, as well as to soothe her nerves.

Milly grinned. "Meryl."

"What?" The small woman shot Milly a 'don't-you-dare-go-there' look.

"Oh nothing! I just thought it was that time."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"To wake up, silly," Milly said, a playful grin on her face. "You looked so comfortable, I didn't want to disturb you!"

Meryl groaned and put her head in her hands. "No, no. It's okay." She realized how exhausted she still was as she yawned heavily and trudged over to the washbasin. She did her best to wash up, suddenly wishing she had dressed into her nightgown the night before. But with Vash present, she wouldn't have thought of it. She hadn't had the heart to ask him to leave, either, after he had been gone so long. It was a foolish notion, really, but now that they had him back, Meryl didn't really want to risk it.

"We're leaving today, aren't we?"

Meryl glanced at Milly. "As soon as he gets up, so you better get ready." Her gut twisted, but not from being ill. She faintly remembered waking sometime during the night to the touch of his fingers running through her hair.

_Go back to sleep,_ he had whispered to her. Gentle and solemn, as though his heart was still contemplating his struggles in life, trying to determine how best to survive, how best to help his friends, and the whole of the world, survive. She shook her head free of the thought and rubbed the thin layer of sweat from her face.

Milly sat on the edge of the bed as Meryl leaned against the washbasin, staring at her reflection in the clear pool. "Oh Meryl, I'm so happy right now." She clutched her plush ducky to her belly, tears of joy mixed with painful remembrance dribbling down her cheeks as her thoughts turned to another who had been in their company, the traveling priest who had traveled with them before his death over a year ago. She sighed, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand. She choked off any unwanted sobs that might have taken her and simply smiled to her friend.

Meryl sighed and took a seat next to her friend. Despite her smile, she could see that something was bothering her friend. She draped an arm over her shoulders, violet eyes watching over her with concern. "Oh Milly, what's wrong? You know you can always tell me what's on your mind."

"Oh…" She sniffled and turned her gaze to Meryl. "I'm just so happy for you, that's all."

Meryl pulled back, gazing in wonder at her big friend. "Happy for me? But…"

"If you can't figure that much out for yourself, then you must not be ready to know yet," the big girl teased.

"Don't start that again, Milly. He's a friend in need, no more than that."

Milly grinned. She reached out and playfully tapped Meryl on the nose. "Bullshit."

Meryl blinked at her friend's response. Had Milly Thompson, her friend a thousand times over, the gentle sweetheart with love to spare, actually used that innocent tongue of hers to say _that?_ She shook her head in wonder and laughed, and then fell into the big girl to give her as big a hug as she could manage.

Her eyes sparkled. "I love you, Milly."

"I love you too."

"And I love the both of you."

Meryl stiffened at the voice of the Humanoid Typhoon. She spun to stare at the man on the other side of the bed. _But how…_ Somehow Vash had wakened and quietly slipped to the other side of the room without their knowing. He was standing at the other window, peering down into the alley. Meryl wondered why, but she didn't press the matter. Instead, she simply stood and watched him quietly.

Milly got up as well and moved over to see that their duffel was packed.

"Geez, you scared me."

He cast Meryl a sidelong glance. "I did? Gee, I didn't mean to."

"You did." Meryl sighed and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "But that's all right. So, when are we going?"

"Any minute now," Vash replied. He looked out the window again, as if considering something. "I don't think we're welcome here anymore."

"Mr. Vash is right. I think we should get out of here right away."

Meryl nodded. "Well, Milly and I are ready. Let's get out of here."

"We're walking," Vash told her. "The bus won't be here until midmorning, and I don't have enough cash as it is."

"We'll be right beside you no matter where we go." Meryl smiled. "And we can take the thomases."

Vash gave her the biggest lopsided grin he could muster. "That'll help a lot." He slipped away from the window rubbing the palm of his prosthetic hand. After a moment, his hidden machine-gun sprung free and then slipped back into the hidden chamber. "Haven't used that in awhile," he murmured.

And then he did something Meryl hadn't expected.

After quickly wetting his stubbled chin, Vash took a bar of soap and a razor from a cup on the windowsill by the washbasin and started to work up a good lather. He spread in over his face and quickly shaved. Meryl thought it was a little weird, considering he was in a hurry to get out of this place, but then again, he did look as though he could use a shave. Then he used the water to spike his hair for the pivotal Vash the Stampede do.

When he was finally done, he turned to look at his friends. Meryl smiled, realizing once more that the man they had been searching for so long had finally returned to them. "All right, wait for five minutes after I leave, and then go downstairs, turn in the key, and get your thomases. When you leave the tavern, go due north along the main road and out into the desert. I'll catch up with you, okay."

"Wait a second," Meryl started. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Just checking a mousetrap," Vash replied, and slipped outside.

Milly frowned. "I didn't see a mouse."

Meryl suppressed a grin. "Just don't worry about it, okay?"

The big girl gave her friend a look and shrugged. "All right."

----------

Once outside, Vash slipped quietly through the alley, watching for signs of the drunk that had spent the night in the alley behind the tavern. He was easy to spot. He was stumbling through the alley, shotgun hanging in his right hand and a bottle in his left. Garbage spilled out of a crate that had been knocked on it side during the night. Vash shook his head, spying the metal star pinned to the stumbling man's vest.

"What a klutz. And I thought I was bad."

Quietly, he slid back, melting into the shadows. Five minutes were up, and the girls would be on their way any moment now. Sure enough, very shortly he heard the creak of the front door and two sets of footsteps, one from a much bigger person than the other, moving out into the street and toward the north.

He made sure that his friend, the drunken sheriff, didn't make a move toward the girls as they made their way to the south toward the thomas stables, but the coot was so plastered didn't seem to notice them. Vash took that as a good sign. He glanced up to the Fifth Moon overhead and came to realize that there was a fresh journey ahead of him. The sun would soon rise, and the scorching heat would follow. He wanted to get as good of a head start as possible before the sun made the journey practically unbearable.

A short time later, he heard Milly and Meryl coming back up the street with a pair of thomases in tow. They were on foot at the moment, but at least they were going. He peered out to the drunkard across the alley and waited. Very soon, his friends were well beyond city limits, and Vash was ready to get going.

Vash steered clear of the main street, but since it was in the path of his exit, he knew he'd have to cross it eventually. Since his face was out—the clerk from the day before had been proof enough of that, and now he'd apparently brought the sheriff in on it—he didn't see any reason to stick around. Besides, he had a ton of shit piled on his shoulders, and he couldn't do a thing about it here.

He slipped past the main street and headed north, after the girls. He could see them out there, not too far ahead, and it made him eager to be on his way. _Ah, the great plains of Gunsmoke! Bring 'em on, baby!_ he thought, a grin on his face. "Shit. Who'm I kiddin'? It's a frickin' desert!"

Despite the fact they were leaving, Vash had a sneaking suspicion that he would find himself back in Black Rock again, in the near future. Who could tell? Still, it was the only town for 300 iles. Very few people would be going to the north, where the desert stretched on forever. Nobody lived that far north. Right now, all he had was a journey that he didn't quite understand. He'd just have to take little baby steps along the path, to make sure he was doing things the right way.

He wanted to be careful, especially with Milly and Meryl with him. There was so much that could go wrong, and he was desperate for them to stay with him, despite how they worried him. He couldn't turn them away now, now that he knew that they wanted to be with him wherever he road may lead, no matter the dangers. Besides, they had already risked a lot to find them at Black Rock. And before, they had even thrown away their jobs to be at his side.

Without them, he wasn't sure he'd even be so eager to go on.

----------

Soon, the sun peaked out over the eastern horizon, flooding the barren land in a glow of pink and gold. Off in the distance, along the northern horizon, Meryl could see towering pillars of rock stretching toward the heavens. This was a place where no sane person would dare travel, as it was more than a thousand miles to the nearest town, and that was if you traveled to the east. They traveled due north, far away from civilization.

A safer place, perhaps, for the man they began the venture with. Or, at least, Meryl hoped that he would join them soon. She kept peeking back over her shoulder, searching the town on the horizon, and all the land between here and there, for any sign of Vash, but it seemed that he had simply disappeared.

Meryl sighed. _Why do I get the feeling I am walking toward my own death? _She hoped Vash wouldn't be long. There was still a lot she wanted to discuss with the man. Milly reached down and gave her thomas a scratch behind the ear. "It's going to be a hot day, isn't it Meryl."

"Probably."

Milly sighed heavily and turned to her friend, offering her brightest smile. "I'm so glad to be on our way again. It reminds me of old times."

Meryl gazed to the twin suns peeking just over the horizon; her shoulder drooped only slightly. "Yeah, it is nice to be on the road again." If only she didn't have to wear the damned cape. Then again, she would feel naked without her derringers ever at the ready.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Milly reached into their duffel and finally picked something out of the mess within. Meryl eyed it briefly before she realized that it was her canteen. "Here's your water. I filled all the canteens this morning after I woke." She grinned. "Just don't drink it all in one sitting."

Meryl grinned. "Oh, thanks Milly. I'm glad one of us has a head on her shoulders."

They went on for several minutes, with Meryl occasionally tossing a look over her shoulder. She began to wonder if maybe they shouldn't go back to find him, to be sure that he was all right. But he had asked them to go on, that he would catch up. _How long should we go without him before we go back for a look?_

She couldn't even answer her own question. It bothered her.

"You okay?" Milly asked after a long silence.

"I think so. It's just…" She peered back over her shoulder again. That's when he shocked her once more.

"Eyes forward, Meryl. We're going this way."

"Vash?!" she yelped, spinning to look forward. Sure enough, there he was, walking right along beside her. "Damnit, you scared me! How the hell do you do that?"

He had that big, fool's grin on his face. "Trade secret."

"You're full of them, aren't you?"

"I guess I am."

Meryl shook her head. Vash always managed to pop up out of nowhere; it never ceased to amaze her. She slipped off her thomas and joined Milly on hers so Vash could ride. Instead, he took the beast by the reigns and walked onward. "Let's get going," he said. "I don't want to keep it waiting."

_It?_ Meryl watched after him. What the hell was "it"? So many questions ate at her insides, but she didn't think it was even proper for her to ask. For now, she simply moved on, along with Milly and their thomas. She leaned against her big friend, pondering the situation at hand. They had Vash back. For now, that was enough for her.

"It" could come later, whatever "it" was.


	12. Chapter Ten

TEN: if

"Sixty billion what?" Spike muttered as he stared at the crumpled paper in his hands. A face scrawled in pencil, eyes hidden behind glasses, stared back at him, hair standing on end. "What the hell as he done to warrant a bounty that big?"

Faye shrugged. "Well, the clerk was sure freaked out."

"And what kind of name is Vash the Stampede?" Jet asked.

"Not a clue," Faye replied. "But that's all I saw of him. That, and the fact he was there. Actually took me into the general store and bought our groceries."

Spike gave her a look. "Excuse me, Faye, but that doesn't exactly sound like something a sixty billion bounty would actually do."

"Tell me about it."

"Yeah. A girl like you would be lucky to get out of there with all your clothes on," Jet added. "How the hell did you get away from a beast like that?"

"I told you! He was really pretty nice. He bought our fucking groceries!"

The three of them sat in silence for a moment. Ed looked up from her blank computer screen, a grumpy look on her face. She hadn't said much of anything since she'd lost Tomato, and until Jet got back to work on the ship's electrical wiring, she was likely to be as foul as the rest of the team. That was a little disappointing, but Faye figured there really wasn't a hell of a lot to smile about anyway.

"Anyway, I say we go get ourselves a bounty."

Jet leaned back, crossing his arms as he gave her a look. "Faye, we know next to nothing about this place, let alone what this man is really like. There's got to be a reason the man has sixty billion double-dollars on his head."

"What the hell's a double-dollar, anyway?" Spike asked.

Faye threw up her hands in disgust. "Who gives a shit? There's a sixty billion attached to it. That's got to be a lot on any planet."

"I don't know, Faye. It's not like we have anything on this guy." Jet gave a look at the poster in Spike's hands. "I wouldn't exactly call a sign on a wall sufficient background information for a bounty."

"We need money right?"

"It'd probably be easier to get a job," Jet replied.

"Hate to say this Jet, but I agree with her."

"I'm not surprised. There's a bounty involved."

Spike gave Jet a look. "Well, she's right about us needing the money. We can't buy shit with what we've got, you know that."

Jet shook his head. "The _Bebop_ doesn't have a power supply, Spike. Nobody's going anywhere until we get one."

The young bounty hunter gave him a look. "Well, then let's get it done. Sitting around here is driving me up the wall. It's a damn pressure cooker in here."

Faye leaned back and smirked. "Yeah. I don't see how you boys manage it."

"Okay, okay. We can get to it right away." Jet leaned forward and rubbed his chin. "I think we can replenish the backup power supply if we can get some extra wiring. That way, we can at least get enough power to the laptop." He saw Ed's eyes light up at the prospect. "The faster we get power, the faster we get off this rock. Otherwise, we're stuck here."

The two men soon rose and were off, Jet leading a slowly trodding Spike out of the _Bebop_'s living room. Meantime, Ed peered into one of the bags Faye had brought with her from the town she had visited.

"Did Faye-Faye bring something good for Edward?"

"If you think food and a big time bounty is good, then sure."

Ed's eyes lit up. "Ramen! They have Ramen here?"

Faye shrugged and gave the girl a small nod. She'd been surprised too. Apparently, whoever these people were, they had come here from Earth's solar system. As surprising as that was, it wasn't _too_ surprising. Apparently sometime in the past, as she had lay in a cryogenic chamber, several group of ships had left Earth to seek a better life for the human race. Apparently, the people here had been in on one of those missions. Seemed reasonable enough.

But the man back at had said there hadn't been any working starships on this planet for a very long time, since he had arrived here. That was enough to let her curiosity roam.

Ed grabbed several packs of the uncooked noodles and tore them open, eating them raw. Faye watched as she wolfed down both packages without a second thought. "Hey, watch what you're eating, Ed! It's all we've got for now."

"But Ed is hungry!"

"We all are." Faye sighed and shook her head, picking out a couple packs for herself. "Just save some for the boys, all right? Jet'll be pissy if we run out."

Edward grinned. "Jet-person is always pissy."

"True enough." Faye leaned back and stretched. "Jeez, I haven't slept in ten hours! I think maybe I should get some rest, don'tcha think?"

She didn't wait for a reply. She kicked her feet up onto the couch and lay back to relax. Dark hair with blue highlights fell over her cheek as she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. Ed watched as her friend drifted off into a restful slumber as she finished the one last pack of raw Ramen, and then she curled up into a ball at Faye's feet and dozed off herself.

Meanwhile, Ein had his nose in the bag, and the girls didn't even have a clue.

----------

Shining his flashlight into the gaping breach in the side of his ship, Jet cursed. He still couldn't get over all the damage. Wires severed, metal twisted and blackened, far beyond the possibility of salvaging. He heard Spike's even breathing beside him as they inched deeper into the hole.

"Oh hell."

"Lighten up, Spiko. If we get the ship working, and if we manage to get that big bounty Faye discovered, we might be able to come out of this place smelling like roses."

"_If_ we aren't a gazillion lightyears from Earth," Spike added.

_If._ That was a pretty big word, considering it consisted of only two letters. Jet scratched the back of his head and peered about the wreckage. "Just bear with me awhile," he told his friend. "It's not like you have anything better to do."

"I could be out there looking for a bounty worth sixty billion double-dollars, whatever the hell that means."

Jet smirked.

He bent down and shone the flashlight into his toolbox. After a moment, he picked out a wrench and slipped a little deeper into the breach. Spike followed.

"So what're we looking for?"

The old man looked about but didn't see it, whatever it was. "You'll see it in the ceiling. A loose bolt. There's a wire hanging free that I think is still charged. Just keep an eye out; let me know if you see it."

Spike peered up and looked about.

Nothing.

"Shit, it'd be easier to wire up a whole new battery."

Jet grunted. "Right, and where'd you suggest we find this all-powerful super battery you keep dreaming of?"

Spike smirked and was about to comment when something brushed against his ear, sending a bolt of energy rushing through his system. "_Damnit!_ I think I found it!"

Jet turned and shone the light toward his partner. "Spike? You alright?" He peered at his grousing friend, who was holding his ear and glaring at the wire hanging down from the ceiling. "Christ. You should try to be a little more careful."

Spike glared at the old man. "Screw you."

Jet grinned. "You're fine."

"Now what?"

"That wire just happens to connect the entire ship to the backup power supply," Jet replied. "It was shredded in the crash. We have to tie the line so the power flows accordingly." He scratched the back of his head and inspected the wire for a few more moments. After a time, he pointed to a mass of metal at their feet, including three huge slabs that seemed to have caved in from the outer hull. "And the other end is right there somewhere. We've gotta move those slabs, and it ain't gonna be very fun."

Spike groaned. "Sonuva bitch."

Jet smirked. "Since when did Faye have children?"

The two had a good laugh, and then turned back to their work. For a brief moment in history, Jet wished he were back on the force. _Hell, anything would be better than this._

----------

Nearly a half hour passed before Faye's eyes fluttered open, and she found herself staring at the ceiling in the _Bebop _living room. Something wet rested against her bare feet. Her eye twitched in annoyance. She knew what it was, though she preferred not to even look. Instead, she gave the annoying mutt a light kick on the nose; Ein yelped in surprise and slunk deeper into Ed's arms.

Sitting up, Faye peered about. "Next time you lick my feet, you're going to find yourself in Faye's edition of Jet's 'special,'" the young woman mumbled. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. "So, where are the guys?"

Ein just stared at her.

"That's what I thought."

She rose to her feet, slipping on her sandals. She gave Ed a look, deciding not to wake her, and trudged out of the room. She headed for the breach Jet had shown them the day before. Sure enough, the two were there, cursing like sailors as they fought with a large section of the hull that had caved in during the crash.

"_This_ isn't getting us _anywhere_, Jet!"

"News flash, Spike. We aren't going anywhere anyway!"

Faye rolled her eyes. "Figures," she muttered. She leaned against the bulkhead and watched the two glare at her for several seconds before she glanced away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "So, what's the news? When are you gonna be done? I want to get off this Godforsaken rock."

Jet glared. "This is tough work, Faye. I'll be at it twenty-four-seven until it gets done. I may stop to eat or sleep or take a dump every once in awhile, but that's about it. Even then, it'll still take three weeks just to finish the patchwork on the hull." He ran his fingers along his sweaty forehead and gave her a look. "Give you plenty of time to follow up on that sixty billion you were tellin' us about."

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied, rubbing a sore spot where she'd slept awkwardly on her shoulder.

"Great. Does that mean I'm stuck here working with you on this scrap heap?"

"Relax, Spike. You're just stuck here until we get power back to the ship. That'll make my job a helluva lot easier. But until then, give me a hand with these goddamn slabs like I asked you to." He bent down to grab the last chunk of metal covering what you thought was the connector to the backup power. "Can't do it on my own."

Faye yawned. "Anything I can do?" she asked.

Jet gave her a look. "What was that?"

"Anything I can do?" she repeated with a roll of her eyes. "It's called an offer. Take it or leave it."

"Well yeah, if you want. See that toolbox at your feet?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there's about twelve feet of wiring and some electrical tape in there. I need it to connect these two wires."

Spike bent over and grabbed the slab. "One."

"Two," Jet echoed.

On "three" the two men stood and lifted the last slab off of the connector.

Jet grinned when he saw what he was looking for. He helped Spike dump the slab overboard and on top of the pile of scrap in the sand below. Meanwhile, Faye picked out the supplies Jet had asked for and handed them over.

"Go tell Ed we'll have power back in about three minutes," Jet grinned. He looked over to Spike. "And you go into the kitchen and start boiling water. It's spaghetti and with tomato and mushroom sauce tonight."

"You mean macaroni," Faye said.

"Shit, what's the difference?"

Faye grinned. "Yeah, it's all food, I guess."

The two of them left Jet to complete his little chore.

----------

By the time they arrived in the living room, the power was already restored. It apparently had been like flipping on a light-switch, because Edward was already sitting in front of Tomato, her goggles pulled down over her eyes, watching a flood of information filling the screen. It wasn't as much as usual, but it was more than she'd had since they'd lost power.

"Lookie, Faye-Faye! We have power!"

"I see that."

Spike slunk off into the kitchen to do what Jet had asked. Meanwhile, Faye leaned over Ed's shoulder.

"Do you think you can figure out what this 'Vash the Stampede' character has on his record?" Faye asked. "I don't think he's the kind to stay in one place for long. Maybe we can figure out where he's going based on that information."

Ed gave her a look. "Edward can't look for anything on this stupid planet. There aren't any computer networks here!"

"Oh, right." Faye flopped down on the couch and groaned again. "I'll probably have to patrol the desert to find him, won't I."

"Maybe."

After a few moments, Spike reemerged from the kitchen, wiping his forehead. "It's so damn _hot_ in this dump."

"Maybe Jet'll get us enough power to run the air conditioners."

"Yeah, dream on.

"Hey, Ed, what're these?" Spike was rummaging through one of the bags Faye had brought back from the town and was picking at a package with what appeared to be several strips of old, ruined leather.

"Jerky jerky!" the girl replied, never taking her eyes from the computer screen. Suddenly she hopped up onto her hands and started moving back and forth, her knees bent at a ninety degree angle over her head. "Oh! Oh! Edward found a seed!"

"What?!" Faye started.

"Huh?" Spike gave the scantily-clad woman a look and the two of them leaned over Edward's shoulder.

A moment later, Jet stepped into the room, watching the three of them hovering over Tomato. "What'd I miss? Did Ed discover transdimensional time travel?"

"Don't I wish!" Faye grinned. "But this is just as good. Ed found a seed."

"Say what!? Where the hell is it?"

"Ten miles southwest!" Ed cried with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Well I'll be goddamned." Jet shook his head with a big smile. He couldn't believe their luck. He glanced over at Faye. "As soon as we get a little food in us, you get some sleep. As soon as you're well rested, you have another mission."

Faye grinned. "Anything, so long as we get off of this stinkhole as soon as possible."

"It's a deal," Jet said. Things were slowly starting to look up. Maybe they'd even start to get along better.

Unlikely, but this was a good start.


	13. Interlude 2

INTERLUDE: from the diary of meryl stryfe

_July 17, Year 131, 11:42 p.m. – Odd how quickly the heart can turn, isn't it? Twenty-four hours ago I was lost in a conundrum, so lonely I was ready to tear my hair out at the roots. It would've looked pretty silly, I admit, after I'd spent nearly a year growing it out. But I think everything is gonna be okay. My hair is safe, for now, because after all these months, my nights of worrying over where he was hiding and how he was living and what stars is he gazing upon are over, because last night we were finally sleeping under the very same star._

_I'd tell you that it didn't feel strange or wonderful or awkward to find myself sleeping next to him, after all this time, but that would be a lie. I felt all of those things and more. To wake up and find that I almost couldn't breathe, my heart pounding wildly, when I found him holding me down, was beyond description. It scared my to death. It turned my stomach in knots. It was wonderful. It was frightening. It was all these great and hideous things at once. Truth is, I couldn't begin describe it at all without contradicting my every word with another just as important and honest as the one before._

_I guess I felt safe, lying in his arms. At the same, my heart beats like a timid rabbit's in a raptor's talons every time I think of him, standing there next to us, walking alongside us like he had never left to being with. Just how the hell am I supposed describe that? Easy enough, yet at the same time it isn't easy at all. I want to write every word I can think of, but there are so many and they are so jumbled in my head I think I'd only end up writing gibberish in the end._

_So I won't say anything at all, save this: Vash is back, and for me, that's really all that matters. I'm sure Milly feels the same way._

_And what would life with Vash be without the mystery?_

_What is this mysterious "It" that draws him toward the north, away from whatever civilizations might remain on Gunsmoke? Milly has already said she would walk through fire for him, if he asked her to. I think I would to, but I hesitate? Can I honestly promise him that, or will I wind up hesitating, like I did a year ago, when I couldn't find the words to tell him that I had come to have feelings for him?_

_It's that one tiny hesitation that keeps me from him, that keeps him from revealing to me so much more about his obscure history than I could have ever imagined._

_I guess it's important that we've found him. There really can't be a second step to this journey without that crucial first step, the step that brings him back to us, after so long. We found him in Black Rock, and that's enough for me. At least for now. Maybe it's all we really needed._

_Milly would tell me not to kid myself, that we had only come this far today because we really care about him. That much is true; to say anything less would be a lie. I do care for him, more than I have ever cared for any one person._

_But does it really matter what I feel right now? What's important is that he has us if he needs us, and that he will be here if we need him. Right now, isn't that so much more than I could have hoped for even yesterday?_

_And you know what? That's all the confirmation I really need._


	14. Chapter Eleven

ELEVEN: rem saverem

As Meryl slipped her pen and diary into the saddlebag of her thomas, she shot Vash a curious look. He was staring to the north, sitting cross-legged in the sand, elbows on his knees and head rested on his knuckles. He had been that was since they decided to stop to rest the thomases. Forty miles was a long day, and they had done it in less six hours. Luckily, two hours had been done under light of the four of Gunsmoke's moons. Meryl scratched behind Ian's ear, thanking him in a soft unintelligible whisper, the way Milly did on occasion.

"What exactly is this 'it' we're going to see, Mr. Vash?" Milly asked as she slumped against the side of the thomas, surprising Meryl. She sat back and gave her friend a look. At first, Vash said nothing, so Milly went on. "I hope it's a place where we can get some water."

She brushed a strand of brown hair out of her face and smiled. It made Meryl smile right along with her. It felt so wonderful to be on the road with Vash again. The thought of the journey pushed them on; Meryl so much more than she could ever have anticipated. By the look in her friend's eyes, Meryl suspected that there was only one thing missing, one thing they would never find.

_Wolfwood…_

Yet Milly's tear refused to fall. It was a great day, and Meryl knew it was all because of Vash. The journey ahead was no doubt fraught with danger. After all, they were traveling with a legendary ace gunman, deemed the world's first humanoid disaster.

It was funny, really, because Vash really wasn't as dangerous as his supposed persona. He was one of the gentlest men Meryl had ever met. The problem was, trouble followed him no matter where he went, and it was all because of some terrible rivalry with his brother that had led to the destruction of July, the Third City.

"Mr. Vash?"

But he wasn't paying attention, or he didn't care to answer the question. He simply gazed to the north and rose to his feet. "We should get going. The day's not getting any cooler sitting here." Stretching, Vash rose to his feet and flashed his friends his friendliest smile. "I'm glad you came with me."

Milly sighed.

Meryl gave her a sidelong glance and mounted Ian. Milly followed, and soon Vash had mounted hers, Rupert. She wondered if they were going to investigate the strange ship that had landed the other day, the ship carrying that strangely dressed yet beautiful woman who had watched Vash with such intensity. But she couldn't see why Vash would hide that much from them. After all, she had already seen the woman. She knew about the presence of the off-worlders. Why hide it at all…unless they were out here searching for something else.

The thought worried Meryl, yet it also intrigued her, for whatever reason. She wanted to know what Vash knew, to understand, but she wasn't about to feed her curiosity with questions. Instead, she looked to the sky and sighed. Meryl despised the heat, yet at the same time, she relished it. Sometimes, it could be a comfort that reminded her that there were constants on this Godforsaken world. "It's going to be a long day."

Vash gave her a look as he slipped on his sunglasses. _Longer than you think, my friend._ He had spent 131 years wandering this strange planet, and he was still barely used to the wonders that it held, despite the fact it was a deathtrap at the same time. He could survive without water for days, and had many times, but most people he knew could never last more than two days out here, with or without water. It worried him sick that he was bringing the girls out here, over such a long stretch of desert.

Then again, he knew what lay on the other side, and what was there was all worth it. If it wasn't, they may not have to suffer long at all, because death would be sudden and undoubtedly instantaneous. Without a word, he looked over to Meryl and offered a smile. The girl watched back for a moment and then looked away. She closed her eyes against the bright light of the twin suns and slowly brought her hands up and ran them through her hair to push it away from her face.

She really did have pretty features, Vash thought as he gazed upon her. Her face was heart-shaped and thin, much like her stature. But she didn't fool anybody, especially not Vash. She was well and able to take care of herself, more so then she had been even those short years ago when he had first met her.

With her hands still messing around with her long hair, she twisted it in a unique fashion and pulled a clip from the saddlebag, fastening it to her hair. She leaned back with another soft sigh and opened her eyes. She looked both tired and wide awake at the same time, deep in thought. Vash wondered what was on her mind, though he suspected it was a pleasant thought, by the tiny smile that slowly crept across her delicate features.

Vash mounted Rupert with a sigh. "Rem was a mother to me," he said quietly, and gave the thomas a gentle nudge, urging it onward. Without protest, the journey was begun again. He closed his eyes and let the first of his tears slowly slide down his cheeks.

It was time that they understood how he had come to be the person that he was today. At least, it was time for them to know the person who had been responsible.

Ian was soon walking right beside his brother, and the girls, therefore, were right beside Vash. They gazed to him with worry in their eyes. They knew he was about to shed some light on his past. He had told Meryl a great deal about Project SEEDS, but he had never explained to her who Rem was. They had heard the name several times during his recovery, before he had gone to face Knives, and Meryl had determined she had been an occupant and crewmember throughout the Project SEEDS mission. She didn't know any more of the person or character behind the name.

"She loved flowers," he said quietly, peering to the north. His flesh and blood right hand lifted to wipe fresh tears from his eyes. "Red flowers, especially red geraniums." The man smiled over to them, though they could see the pain hidden behind that smile. "I used to wear that red coat to honor her. She said that in the language of the flower, red means determination. She used to say it brought courage to her. I guess I can understand why. There never was a more courageous a woman."

Meryl smiled at the thought, knowing that there had indeed been someone else in his life. A mother-figure. She had often wondered if he had even enjoyed any semblance of a family life in his youth. As they moved forward, Vash told his friends about the woman he cared so deeply for, the woman he treasured. Rem Saverem, the woman he would have walked to the edge of the universe for, though she was already dead.

She had begun to build an image of this woman in her mind as he described her. She was strange and tender in her ways, the person who made Vash human, despite his true origins. She was gentle and kind, and Meryl could almost picture her holding those red flowers to her nose, smiling as their lovely scent filled her heart and soul.

She realized as he spoke that a lot of the truth, which he had kept hidden for so long, was being explained to her, here and now. Only slightly, but all the same, she was beginning to understand. It lifted her spirit, encompassing her soul in a warmth a thousand times as powerful as the heat of the barren world around her. She felt his pain, his joy, his pride at this woman he described, and she felt that she somehow knew her, understood her, even though she knew how utterly impossible that was. No doubt, Vash had cared for her a great deal and losing her must have been excruciatingly hard. Meryl couldn't begin to imagine, and she doubted she wanted to.

Behind her, Milly smiled. "She must have been a wonderful lady, Mr. Vash," she announced. There were hidden tears behind her words, happy tears as Vash exposed some of his painful past, along with some of the good memories. "It's like my big big sister always says, sometimes those we know for only a short time make the biggest impacts on our lives. Kinda like your time with us, don'tcha think, Meryl?"

The smaller woman took a long moment to answer. She lifted her eyes, looking as if she had been lost deep in thought before she regained herself, and nodded her agreement. Indeed, Vash had played a role in their lives, but it was a large role that was ongoing; Meryl wondered if she would ever live to see the end, though, again, she wasn't sure she really wanted that, either. Even when Vash disappeared from their lives, it felt almost like there was a continuance waiting just beyond the horizon.

"Ya know, I've never really thought about it like that, but you're absolutely right, Milly." He smiled and continued on his way, leading them northward. "You two are really amazing. I really believe that."

Meryl shook her head, gazing to him, ignoring the slightly sinking feeling nagging her at the pit of her belly. "We just follow you, Vash, and try to help whenever we can. I think the truly amazing one here is you."

"I want you to ask yourself who is the dangerous one, and remind yourself that no one ever follows the dangerous one. It takes a very special gift to have the courage to walk at my side, Meryl, and you have that gift. You both do." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Not many people follow such a feared man as myself."

"Did Rem have this special gift?" Meryl asked, smiling.

"She instilled it in me," he whispered, gazing off to the horizon.

"Vash, people only fear you because they don't take the time to know you. Even I took awhile to see who you really are."

"And it's a constant reminder that I don't belong in your world," Vash snapped. He closed his eyes, immediately regretting his tone.

Meryl flinched.

"Mr. Vash!" Milly started. The big girl had an angry look on her face. "You have no right to yell at Meryl like that!"

He nodded. "I know. I'm sorry." He gazed up to the horizon. "I have a lot of pent-up anger in me. It shouldn't be there, but it is."

"If you ask me, it's just anger," Meryl whispered. "After the way you've been treated, it's just." She reached out and lay a hand on his shoulder. "At least you didn't do what most people would have done. You didn't give up. And you didn't turn into the man they made you out to be. You were strong, even though you know people will always think wrong of you. They'll start thinking it of me, and of Milly. They already have. They think we're a gang, simply for knowing you and following you."

He smiled slightly. "Is that what they think?"

Meryl grinned and nodded. "That's what they think. And you know what, I don't give a damn. All that matters is that we're together. We will always be with you, so long as you allow it. And the rest of the world can kiss my ass."

"And mine too," Milly grinned.

Vash smiled. "Thank you," he whispered. He had never really thought of it in that way before, that he had brought this new curse upon them, a curse that they had seemingly turned into the greatest gift that he could possibly provide. He did what he did simply because it was the right thing to do, or at least what he thought was right at the time.

Life was a twisted mess for the Humanoid Typhoon, and many key moments of his past were lost in a mass of jumbled and shredded memories, somehow faded from his brain. Use of the angel arm had that effect on him.

"You're right. I know you are, beyond a shadow of a doubt." He lowered his head. "Thank you."

Meryl smiled. "I know."

"Rem would have adored you. Both of you."

"And I think she would be proud of you."

That brought another of those smiles, the smile Wolfwood would go on about.

"Life isn't always the way we wish it could be," Meryl said after a moment. "That's what makes it what it is, what makes it special and unique. We can only make the best of what we are giving in life. From there we can regret and depress on all that happens. Or we can make something out of it. That's the lesson you should have learned after you killed Legato."

She paused a moment to look out over the horizon before she pulled herself back down to the world of the living.

"Someday people will understand. It may not be in our lifetime, but someday, they will know the truth of Vash the Stampede."

"Gee, Meryl. I never heard you talk like this before," Milly said, grinning. "You sound like a philosopher. It's kinda scary."

She lifted her canteen to her lips and sipped at the cool water. Milly care so deeply and obviously for her friends that she would walk to the edge of the unknown just to be with them, and beyond, if she had to. Her smile alone revealed the truth of that. Meryl had to smile at the thought.

"I suppose you're right, Milly. I never really noticed it before."

"Actually, it makes me feel a lot better. Thanks." Vash leaned back, his hands on his hips, and stretched his aching muscles. "It sounds exactly like something Rem would say."

Meryl grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. Maybe the best of compliments, coming from you."

He only smiled back.


	15. Chapter Twelve

TWELVE: forgotten landmark

Time passed quickly during their journey. They traveled just as quickly.

By evening, they had gone nearly ninety miles. The thomases were exhausted, and Vash felt bad for working them this hard, but he had wanted to get here as quickly as possible. Though the girls would never be able to figure out where he had brought them, not without an explanation, Vash peered about the towering stone pillars, grateful that they had been here to guide him back. Without them, it could've taken days just to find the place again. That it had landed here made it all the easier to locate.

"Thank you, friend," he said quietly to Rupert as he changed course and headed toward one of the taller pillars of stone. The girls followed, watching on with confusion.

"Vash, what is this place?" Meryl asked, watching the world around her as if these pillars might come to life or topple down onto them from the heavens. Vash had to smile; he'd felt the same way the first time he'd been here.

"A forgotten landmark," he replied. Soon, he found what he was looking for, a break in the sand that dipped down and out of sight. "Tonight we'll sleep in the comfort of a shelter."

Meryl stifled a yawn. She was tired. It had been a long day with only a couple of short break. Her canteen was near empty. She knew she would regret drinking it all, even as thirsty as she had been. _I hope it's a place where we can get some water,_ Milly had said. Amen to that.

Milly leaned toward her tiny friend and whispered in her ear. "Meryl, what did he mean by sleeping in a shelter? I don't see a building or anything like that."

Meryl shrugged.

"Wait here." He slipped off his mount and drifted toward the dark patch in the sand. He had led them to a secluded place between two, towering pillars of stone. He went on slowly, leaving them behind, waiting for his signal. He stood for a moment between the pillars of stone and waited. Finally, he came to a spot he deemed suitable and held out his hands, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Beneath him, the desert floor began to quake. The girls watched with wide eyes as the world before him split open to reveal the darkness of the underground below him.

He glanced back to them, grinning. "Come on."

And then, just behind him, a great chunk of metal appeared. Two laser cannons took aim at him, and a female voice droned at him. "Please submit identification card."

He looked back in surprise. "Huh?"

"Vash?" Meryl asked, tempted to join him unsure of the situation.

"Please submit identification card," the voice repeated.

"I don't have any identification card!"

The cannons clicked, and Vash took a step back. "You are in an unauthorized zone. You shall be removed by force."

"Oh crap!" Vash shouted as lasers filled the air all around him.

Meryl froze as red bolts of energy lit the air around Vash. Her heart leapt into her throat as she was certain she would see him collapse to the ground in a lifeless heap. "_Vash!!!_"

At the same instant, Milly dropped down of the Thomas, gaping in horror at the spectacle before her.

By some miracle, they didn't see him fall. Vash was quick, so quick and wild that it looked to be a combination of pure skill and dumb luck. After all she had seen him do, Meryl had come to realize that there was simply no luck involved. It was all an act to make witnesses think he was just some lucky nut job roaming the land. She darted forward, her hands slipping into her cape. Silver glittered in her hands as she pulled them free. She took aim at the machine with her weapons of choice, two small derringers that she had practiced with since she was only thirteen years old.

Every move Vash made was smooth, evenly timed and spaced against his opponent. He heard the sound of Meryl's boots connecting with the parched ground, racing toward him, caught sight of the familiar flash of metal as she pulled her derringers free, weapons that had saved her butt more times than he could remember. _Good girl…_ His hand hit the dirt in a backspin as he threw a small metal object at the thing.

A laser ripped through his poncho, scorching the fabric and narrowly missing Vash. Instantly, he lifted his prosthetic arm, and the hidden machine-gun sprung free through his palm, from the chamber in his wrist and forearm. He looked for the round object he'd thrown and spotted it, taking careful aim.

Just one bullet.

He lightly squeezed the trigger, releasing just a single bullet from the rapid-fire weapon. Perfectly timed, his bullet met the metal ball he had thrown within inches of the drone's optical sensor. Smoke covered the thing, precisely as planned.

"Sentry drone!" Vash yelled, turning to Meryl. "Get behind it! It can't shoot what it can't see! I'll distract it and you pull the plug."

Without objection, Meryl raced toward the metal beast, trying to steer clear of its line of sight. As the dust and smoke began to settle, she sped up and slid along the ground so that she was nearly behind the drone, ignoring the pain that tore the skin of her left arm as it scraped against the rough desert floor. She jumped to her feet, glancing to the box she was certain held the thing's power supply. It was firmly locked down. She grabbed at it but she couldn't get the damn lid to come up. Instead of fighting it, she brought up her derringers and took careful aim.

Vash took aim the exact moment the smoke cleared and hit the drone with three quick shots. The plastic cover cracked and shattered as the optical sensor was destroyed.

Meryl simultaneously hit the box with all four bullets, which blasted the cover completely off the power grid. Her eyes opened as she stared at technology that she couldn't even begin to describe. Tossing the empty derringers aside, she pulled free two more. Quickly, she unleashed four more bullets into the panel. The heat around her intensified in a burst of light. A flash pain sent her reeling back. She fell to her backside.

Vash darted forward, hammering away at the thing with his machine gun, taking out both laser cannons before he even thought to put his weapon away. In that moment, the drone's power supply was sufficiently drained, and the bulky, mechanical beast stopped moving. It was over.

He moved over to the power grid, where Meryl had disarmed the battery. To be certain, he pulled the damaged motherboard free and dropped it to the ground at his feet. Then he glanced back; Milly was making her way over to Meryl, who lay on her back, a hand to her temple as she stared up to the sky. Concerned, he ran over to join them.

"Meryl?!" the big girl cried.

She lay there, dazed but conscious. The sleeve of her blouse was torn and the fabric collected blood from scraped flesh, and she had a scratch on her cheek caused by something that had struck her face from the explosion, but she seemed relatively unharmed. Vash breathed a sigh of relief as he slumped down next to her.

"I…I'm all right, Milly," she whispered.

"But you're bleeding, Meryl!"

"It's just a scrape," she whispered. "I'll live."

Vash sat next to her. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you Meryl."

The young woman sat up and gave him a look. "Something tells me you would've been perfectly fine without me."

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I didn't really think I would be able to stop you. The thing was locked in on me. That's why it didn't respond when you jumped it."

"But how…"

"Don't worry about that right now. We'll look into it." He reached out and took the sleeve of her blouse, rolling it up to look at her arm. She didn't protest. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"We'll have to clean it," Milly announced, taking her arm. "Meryl, that was very foolish…but _wow!_ You were amazing! I might have to call you Mrs. Vash from now on!"

Meryl blushed at her newest nickname. "Milly…" She sighed and watched as her friend inspected her arm. "I just scraped it up when I was sliding, that's…_OW!_"

"It's a pretty nasty scrape," Milly replied twisting the arm up so she could look at the injury from all angles. As gentle as her attitude was, she definitely could play the part of a violent nurse if she wanted to. "There's sand and some glass in there," she announced. "And this cut here's pretty deep. We'll have to get that cleaned up."

Vash shook his head. "Damn, that _is_ deep. I think it missed the artery. I think you got nicked by a shard of plastic when the thing exploded. Let's get you inside and clean you up." He gently lifted her in his arms; Meryl nearly freaked at being in his arms, but she closed her eyes and leaned against him, forcing herself to remain calm. She tried to protest the predicament, but Vash wasn't paying any attention to her. He was more concerned about the situation he was about to lead them into. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly that situation was, but she kept her questions to herself. The answers would come soon enough. "Come on, Milly," Vash said. "I'm pretty sure that was the only one."

"How do you know that."

"It was the only one here a hundred twenty years ago," he replied, and turned toward the gaping hole in the ground. Milly followed; Meryl gave him a curious look.

They climbed down a steep flight of limestone stairs. Meryl watched with amazement, and suddenly realized that they were descending into the unknown. Vash may know what he was going to find here, but it had been long forgotten by the people of Gunsmoke. She shuddered at the thought, clinging to his arm. Milly was right behind him, stun gun at the ready, watching in awe as the situation unfolded before her eyes.

"Vash, what is this place?"

"A SEEDS ship landed here a long time ago." He soon stepped down onto the granite rock, the floor of cave, and headed toward a dark shape in the distance. Meryl's eyes went wide and she held tighter to him. "She's been undisturbed since Knives and I found her one hundred twenty years ago."

"Oh, wow…"

"It's just a shuttle," Vash said quietly, more to himself than to the girls. He gently set Meryl on the ground, offering an arm so that she could steady herself. "A quarter of the size of the ships that brought your people here. There were no colonists on it, just a team of scientists, I suspect."

Meryl glanced to him. "She crash-landed here?"

He looked to her. "No. She landed here."

"You mean landed, landed, don't you?"

"She got here about two years after the other ships crashed. She may have been straggler that got left behind, but I don't think so. More than likely she came in with supplies for the rest of the SEEDS colony, but when it was discovered that the project had been a massive failure, the crew landed the ship and got out while the getting was good."

He smiled over to her. "Well, let's go inside and clean your arm up."

"My arm's fine," she said. "Vash, what are we doing here?"

He sighed. "Something my brother said. Look, I'll tell you the whole twisted story, but right now there's a hell of a lot to do, and we don't have time to mess around right now." He watched her eyes gaze at him, a spark of amusement in them. He gave her a look and approached the shuttle. He punched a button, but the door refused to respond.

"Hmmm…damn thing's jammed." He activated the hidden gun in his left arm and placed it to the frame. Meryl wet her lips, watching, cradling her injured arm.

"Stay back," he said, and squeezed the trigger. He slowly took his arm around the metal in a slow, sweeping movement until he had cut his own oval doorway into the hull. He smiled and kicked at the metal, and the panel caved inward. "Let's go," he said, and stepped inside.

His friends followed him inside, peering about the dark tunnel. Light flickered well back into the darkness, down some other corridor. Meryl peered about, shaking slightly, clutching the wrist of her injured arm. She held the arm to her stomach to better protect it as they moved deeper into the downed SEED shuttle. She felt a little ill, but she didn't think her friends would notice if she kept her mouth shut. There was too much at stake right now, and she didn't feel much like slowing down.

At her side, Milly gazed wide-eyed, amazed at everything before her. "I don't think we're on Gunsmoke anymore," she whimpered, her eyes darting about the shadows. She jumped a bit as the lights above flickered but couldn't quite stay on. There was never enough light to see clearly where the were going.

On the other hand, Vash knew precisely where he was headed.

"I think we're safe here," Meryl said quietly. "Besides, Vash is with us."

Milly only nodded. "I know."

"She's got a little power," Vash said. "I don't know where it came from. When Knives and I found her, the power cells were completely drained."

He slipped into another corridor watching as a shower of spark fell from a mass of exposed wire. Frowning, he continued on past, trying to avoid the hazard. The girls followed his lead, never taking their eyes from the damage.

"There's an active geo-plant nearby," he muttered. Meryl gave him a look. "I can feel it. It's close, very close.

He came to a door with a viewport and slid the hatch open. Through the Plexiglas, he could see the light of a geo-plant. Immediately his eyes widened. The girls stepped to his side and peered on in.

"My God," Meryl murmured.

Slowly Vash slid the hatch closed. "I don't believe it…"

"Oh my, would you look at that," Milly murmured.

Meryl leaned against the far wall, a shocked look on her face. _Babies… Hundreds of babies…_ Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. It was sick to see babies like that…locked up in that way. She suddenly felt ill. "Vash, what is all this? What the hell is going on here?" Her eyes bore into his own, demanding answers.

"I…it can't be. I…" Vash asked, looking to his friends. "What did you see?"

Milly frowned over at him. "I don't know, Vash. It looked pretty obvious, but at the same time, it didn't seem right. There were babies, hundreds of 'em." She gave Meryl a look. "They looked like human babies, I'm guessing about nine months old if they were in the womb, but…they weren't in the womb. They were in that light." She shook her head. "It couldn't be possible, could it? Are my eyes playing tricks on me?"

"That thing they were inside is a geo-plant," Vash whispered. "And it is possible. If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here with you today."

"Mr. Vash?" Milly watched him with a look of confusion.

But Meryl understood. "You mean those things, those are…the same thing that you are? Those things are…like you?"

"I don't know," Vash whispered, leaning against a wall.

Just what had they stumbled upon? His eyes drifted back to a time when he was very young. He had once played with Knives as though he was his best of friends, to the days when they had enjoyed the company and care of Rem Saverem, as he and Knives developed abilities far beyond that of mortal man. He shuddered. If those things were plant-spawn, like him and Knives, there could be hell to pay.

"I don't believe it. It just can't be right."

"What just can't be right?"

"Let's find a place to sit," he murmured, and turned to walk away. He had to get away from this place, to hide himself as far as he possibly could from that scene in the room containing the geo-plant. His heart churned, and he felt as ill as Meryl looked. He shuddered at the thought that occurred to him in that moment. One hundred twenty years ago, he could remember that the geo-plant had been on the verge of dying.

But here it was, perfectly alive and filled with hundred of others like him.

The very prospect filled him with fear.

----------

Vash was not human. He had told her before. He was plant-spawn, a being born from within a geo-plant. Physically and mentally, he was much more developed that any human. It all explained how he could escape some of the most impossible situations imaginable. His brother, Knives, had put him into a difficult situation, one that he couldn't escape, and that was the fear of the people of this world.

That was why she could now understand the extent of what she had seen. It all made perfect sense, in a twisted, frightening way. It was a method of survival. The plant-spawn were hell-bent on enduring all the damage that the humans could possibly cause, and somehow, they had found a way.

Hundreds of babies. About three hundred, Vash had guessed.

It was clear that Vash was disturbed over the situation. Meryl tried not think about her arm. It hurt like hell, and she grimaced on occasion, but for the most part, all she could think of was that something about what the awkward hell she had seen within in the plant. It just didn't seem quite right—nothing about it seemed at all natural. She knew couldn't be one to judge because she didn't truly understand the situation, only that it was.

Her thoughts were disturbed by Vash's gentle voice as fretted over the past.

"I've spent the last 131 years trying to figure out Knives, trying to stop him from slaughtering the whole of the humans here on Gunsmoke. Turns out that I apparently can't. I can only lock him away for the rest of his existence."

He peered over to Meryl, smiling meekly. Now that they knew who Rem was, he wondered how much more they could possibly do for him. He only knew they were with him now, and he supposed that should be enough. For now, anyway.

"Your brother," Meryl whispered. "Is he…"

"He's alive. A year ago, I put my heart and soul into his downfall, but I didn't kill him. That wouldn't have been right." Vash sighed, his thoughts returning to Legato, the man he had killed to save the girls over a year ago. "I would never have killed him, unless I was given no other choice. For now, I have to be sure that he's imprisoned. It's the last thing I told him before I turned my back on him: 'Until you realize that there is room in this world for every last one of us, you'll have to understand there will be no room in this world for you.'"

"Vash, if you didn't kill Knives…" Meryl hesitated. She didn't know if this question was beyond her limit, but she felt it had to be asked. "If you didn't kill him, where is he now?"

"Well-hidden," he replied, picking at his prosthetic arm. His eyes were wet with emotion. "One day, I'll go back to check on him, but it's too dangerous for me to go around telling anyone where he is. Even the two of you."

Meryl nodded. "I understand."

"It must be hard on you," Milly murmured. "Having to stay away from someone you care so much for."

She leaned against Meryl, barely able to keep her tears in. This story was terribly depressing. The smaller woman rested an arm on her shoulder, comforting her. She then turned back to Vash. "I can't imagine having to fight your own brother. Sibling rivalry just doesn't really fit when it comes to your situation."

Vash smiled. "You're right, it doesn't."

Meryl watched him for a moment, reaching her hand toward his own. "It's all right, you know."

"I just hope you understand why I had to go alone."

"Oh Vash, of course we do," Meryl said. "You were protecting the people you care about."

_Which so happens to be everyone,_ she thought. Maybe there was a flaw in humanity. Why couldn't there be more people like Vash out there?

Vash saw Milly nod her agreement and closed his eyes. "Thank you both."

There was a world of pain in those emerald eyes when they opened again, something they'd seen so often before yet couldn't quite understand. Now it was as clear as night and day, and they felt that pain right alongside him. The world was spinning out of control, and they knew they were lucky to have a guy like Vash the Stampede wandering the planet, looking out for them.

After a time, he rose to his feet. "I'm going into that geo-plant. You can't come."

Meryl lifted her eyes to his, tried to voice her protest, but she realized that this was something that he had to do for himself. Besides, the plant gave off a toxic radiation that could easily kill the humans, and when she remembered that, all of her protests went up in smoke. As she watched him walk away, she leaned sadly into Milly's shoulder, her features drooping a bit and for a time, her wounded arm was forgotten, even as her big friend patched it up. All of those worries seemed too small and petty to those that Vash had kept hidden from her for so long.

Now that he was gone, it gave her time to think. She didn't know if she really wanted to think about what was going through her mind, but it seemed inevitable. A silent realization came to her that everything deep within her heart had to stay there and never be said out loud. She thought back to the moment they had shared back at Black Rock, and suddenly ached for it. She longed for the stillness of last night, the gentleness that had encompassed her in his presence. But she knew in her heart those days were behind her, and she could never hold him in that way, for he would never be able to hold her the way she wanted him to. If those days ever returned to her, they were a long time coming, and they wouldn't be shared with Vash the Stampede. Perhaps that hurt worse more than any other realization that had come to her since his return.

She gave Milly a look as her friend clipped the last bandage to her arm. She rose to her feet and stretched. Her good hand raked slowly through her hair as she stared to the ground. She sighed softly and shook her head. She wondered where these odd feelings were coming from.

Shaking those strange thoughts from her brain, Meryl glanced to Milly. "I sure hope he finds what he's looking for."

"Me too, Meryl."


	16. Chapter Thirteen

THIRTEEN: confidence booster

Ed leaned over Tomato, occasionally giggling at the flood of information that poured out over the screen. Jet was off working on the hull, trying to salvage whatever he could of his broken ship. Meanwhile, Faye and Spike lounged about in the living room, bitching about everything that had gone wrong. For once, they weren't arguing. Ed was grateful; those two typically made more noise that the _Bebop's_ engines.

"Woah… Woah!" She giggled again, rocking from side to side. "_Woah!_"

"What the _hell_ are you going on about?!"

"Action at seed!" Edward announced. "Bot-bot woke up and attacked intruders!"

Spike sat up; Faye gave her a look. "Say what?" the two said simultaneously.

"Just what Edward said!" She started typing furiously, her heart pounding. The two others peered over her shoulder, watching information they couldn't decipher. Edward continued to ogle at the screen, giggling every couple of seconds. The information suddenly stopped, leaving a single line at the top of the screen.

FATAL ERROR.

"Woah!"

Faye touched the girl's shoulder. "Ed, is that your computer?"

"No, Faye-Faye. That was bot-bot! Tomato's fine." She leaned forward and started typing in new commands. "Hackity-hack-hack! Don't fall back, Jack!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Ed, would you please tell us what the hell is going on?"

"There are people are going into the seed," she replied.

"_Into_ the seed?" Faye started. "You mean people can get inside?"

"Ed thinks so." The girl continued to type at a rapid pace. After a moment, she lifted herself up with her hand, her legs crossed and hanging inches off the floor as she twirled around a full three hundred sixty degrees. "_Oh…Oh…Oh!_ Ed can see _inside_ seed!"

"I don't see anything," Spike muttered.

"Me either."

Ed stared off into her goggles for a moment, considering. "Okay! Ed will show everyone!" She slipped between Spike's legs with a chord from Tomato and plugged it into the television. The others turned to see what she was doing. Flipping on the TV, she returned to the laptop and punched a few button. "Okie dokie! Lights, camera, action!"

Suddenly, a murky darkness filled the television screen.

"Huh? What the hell?"

"That's inside the seed?" Faye asked.

Spike ran his fingers through his hair. "Hey…do I see people?"

"Affirmative, Spike-person!"

"What, do they live there?"

The bounty hunter shook his head. "Damn. That could really slow us down. We need those spare parts."

A moment later, the people slipped out of their view. "No! Edward can't see them anymore!" She shook her head, slipping her goggles from her face and peering up to the others. "They went where the cameras can't find them! Oh!"

"Can you monitor them in case they come back?" Faye asked. "I mean, if that's their ship, we sure as hell don't wanna go sneaking around in there."

"Ed can do!" Almost instantly she jumped up. "Oh! More cameras!" She typed in a new command, and the television switched angles. Three people appeared. "Edward found them again!"

Spike frowned, snapping off a piece of jerky. He was actually enjoying it, even if it was a bit tough. "Damn, that place is a mess. They don't look like they live in a shithole like that." He glanced down to the girl. "Whaddaya think, Ed?"

"Seed hasn't been in operation for over a hundred years," she replied. "There are dozens of other seeds all over the planet, but Edward can't find any closer. And this one has power; seed records show it's the only one. Plus, Ed thinks they're from Earth."

"So they are human," Faye said. She pushed Spike aside to look at the TV. "I wonder what kind of idiot would be hanging around a broken starship in the middle of nowhere." She frowned, catching sight of a tall man accompanied by two women. "Hey, wait a minute…that's him!"

"Huh?" Spike glanced at her.

"That's the guy from town!" she insisted. "The one with the sixty fucking billion on his head!" She flicked the screen, right where the tall blond-hair individual stood. "Vash the Stampede, or whatever the hell he's called. I wonder what he's doing all the way out there. And who are those girls he's with?"

Spike smirked. "You sound a little jealous."

"Like hell! I just don't remember them, that's all."

A moment later, Jet slunk into the room, wiping grease from his fingers with a rag. He looked over them with a frown, considering. What the hell were they doing now, other than nothing? "Hey, what's going on in here?" he asked, tossing the rag aside.

----------

Morgante slipped his head into the bounty hunter's tent. As he anticipated, Jon was there, bare-chested and silent, his eyes closed and a sly little smirk on his face as he lay back and pondered whatever over whatever might be on his mind. The girl was with him, lying on her belly with a blanket up to her waist, with her back and shoulders exposed. Long red curls spilled down around her neck and onto the pillow.

"Quinn wants to know when you can leave."

Jon squinted over at the big man and shrugged. "Whenever. Just give me the word and I can be gone."

Morgante nodded. "Good. Get your gear. You leave right away."

When he was gone, the girl swore under her breath and turned to her face away from the bounty hunter. Jon watched her for a moment, and reached out to massage the small of her back. For a time, neither said a word, though he could feel the tension radiating from her warm flesh. He felt bad, leaving her now, after so many promises. There was a ton of money at stake right now, and he didn't want to turn his back so quickly on the prospect of lining his pockets.

He wondered what he could tell her. What could he possibly say to assure her that he would be back? From what he'd heard, nobody ever survived a date with Vash the Stampede. The idea of facing the Humanoid Typhoon was exhilarating, but at the same time it sent shivers of apprehension up his spine. For the past few days, he had been able to brush those fears aside with the help of the beautiful redhead next to him, but duty didn't allow for sex and relaxation alone.

Slowly, he drew his fingers along the soft, pale flesh along her spine. "Kelly?"

"You said it would be a week at least," she muttered.

"I guess we got lucky," he said gently.

She turned to him, honey-brown eyes gazing sorrowfully at him. "Lucky? Jon, that man's going to _kill_ you. Can't you see that?"

"Somebody has to stand up to him, Kelly," he whispered, stroking his finger through her curls, pushing it over her shoulder to reveal the smooth, pale flesh of her breasts. "What right does anyone have to talk if they don't step up and take action against a man like that? Someone must risk everything if he's ever going to be taken down."

"Why you, Jon?"

"Why not me?"

Kelly shook her head, falling over onto her back with a grunt. His eyes trailed down to her bare chest. He pulled himself toward her, kissing her cheek, laying an arm across her belly. His kisses slowly wove a path down to her neck. His palm rolled slowly against her belly in large, smooth arcs, progressing down, low along her abdomen, below her midriff, inching to the place beyond her bikini line.

Kelly smiled that secret smile of desire, the one he relished, and draped an arm over his shoulders. "Mmmm…Jon," she mumbled, squirming toward his touch, arching her back and lifting her chin so he could more easily reach the flesh between her neck and shoulder with his lips. She moaned gently at his touch, longed for it more than anything.

In the minutes before he left her behind, the two shared a moment of tender passion, realizing that it might be for the last time.

For Kelly, all that mattered was his touch.

----------

Stryker rolled into the town of Black Rock from the south and went slowly through town. His eyes followed the buildings around him as he searched for the jail. Soon, he came to a limestone building with a familiar poster hanging in the window. With a grunt, he lit a cigarette, slipped down from his bike, and moved on through the doorway.

The sheriff was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't to Stryker. He could wait all day if he had to. He sat down in the chair behind the sheriff's desk, putting his heels up on the edge of the clean finish, and leaned back against the wall. Heaving a puff of smoke into the stale air, he pulled his sidearm free and began to clean it.

Soon, a man appeared in the doorway, wobbling a little as he gazed to the man behind the desk. Stryker could see the silver star pinned to his chest. "Sheriff."

The sheriff gave him a dirty look. "Name's Cale McBride, and what the hell're you doin' in my chair?"

Stryker took a drag of his cigarette, studying the other with emerald eyes. A drunk, clutching an empty bottle. Shaking his head, the young man shoved a thumb to the poster in the window. "That man. He was supposed to be out here somewhere. Have you seen him?"

The sheriff grunted. "Had a man fitting his description come through yesterday."

"Where is he?"

"Didn't stick around long. Didn't wear red, either." He slammed his empty bottle on the table next to him. "So, what's it to ya?"

"I'm hunting him."

Cale lifted his eyebrows and fought off a snicker. "You? Hunting a guy like Vash the Stampede? You're off your rocker!"

Stryker gave the man his coldest stare. "Maybe."

"Well, crazy or not, you're still in my chair."

"Where'd the man go?"

"North, I suspect. The barkeep said he thought they might be headin' that way."

Barkeep? So, he'd been spotted in a saloon. Stryker scratched his chin, letting his thoughts roll over in his mind. He let his eyes slowly investigate the drunken sheriff. How much of his word was reliable, if any? Maybe he should talk to the barkeep. "North, eh? Nothin' much up north. The closest town is a hundred iles to the west by northwest."

Cale shrugged. "Due north. That's the story I heard."

"I'll got check with the barkeep. What's his name?"

"Thaddeus Harvey. Runs the tavern, north along the main road. Can't miss it."

"Thanks, then, sheriff."

"Now, would ya please get the hell up out of my chair?"

Stryker grinned. He scratched his stubbled chin again and leaned back for a few more moments, gazing up to the ceiling as he considered all the possibilities that lay before him. Time seemed to be on his side, and if Vash was off wandering the desert to the north, where there was simply nowhere to hide, it would be much easier to hunt the bastard.

He sucked thoughtfully at the butt of his cigarette and breathed a cloud of smoke into the stale, jailhouse air. "Alright, I'm going. Point me to your general store so I can gather supplies."

Finally he lifted his feet from the desk and stood from the sheriff's chair.

_Hmmm… Looks like a long road ahead of us,_ Stryker thought. _Might as well turn yourself over now and maybe you won't get hurt. Otherwise, keep on running. Might be best for everyone if you just let me gun you down. And I will gun you down one day._

_Vash the Stampede._

----------

Jet tossed Spike a pair of goggles, giving his young friend a nod. The smell of diesel fuel and grease filled the air, reminding the old man of the explosives onboard. He prayed that it would never get so hot onboard that it might somehow set them off, but you could never tell. Everything seemed okay at the moment, and Jet had managed to restore emergency power to most of the ship, enough to allow Faye hot water for a quick shower, before she and Spike set out on their journey across the desert.

_Speaking of Faye, where the hell is she?_ Jet thought as he unhooked the land-rover from the fuel line. Though it was too bad the _Redtail_ couldn't use diesel, at least they were lucky enough to have something like the land-rover and enough fuel to take them just about wherever they wanted. Jet had picked the thing up in a salvage yard several years ago, before hooking up with Spike, though he hadn't gotten around to the repairs until just a few months ago, when he thought it might be useful to help search for a bounty on Earth. "It's not as fast as the _Swordfish_," he said, flashing his partner a sly grin, "but at least it's not bashed to bits."

Spike gave him a look and rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Done-done!" Edward announced as she rolled down off of the top of the rover.

The bounty hunters gave the little genius a look. "Done? Ed, what've you done now?" Jet asked, not sure if he really cared to know.

"Mini-satellite," she announced. "Edward hooked up a system to bounce signals from rover-rover off of seed satellite and back to _Bebop_."

"Well I'll be damned," Jet said with a grin. "A communication system. Thanks, Ed. That's actually a good idea."

She gave him a look. "Aren't all of Ed's ideas good, Jet-person?"

He laughed. "Well, it depends. But thanks anyway."

Ed gave him a look. Ein barked.

Finally, Faye slipped through the door, twirling her sunglasses loosely in her left hand. She wore the same scant, yellow outfit she wore everyday. Jet wondered why sometimes. It could be so cold here on his ship. At least on this barren world, the heat matched her wardrobe.

He only hoped she didn't return as red as a freshly-cooked lobster.

_Well, a little melted butter and that might be quite the entrée,_ he thought with a grin. Jet shook his head and signaled for her to join them. "Come on, Faye. You're driving." He tossed her the key, which she aptly caught in one hand. She strolled over to them, slipping on her shades. "Spike's got better eyes, so he can watch out for anything suspicious. We don't know the terrain precisely, but we have a good idea."

"Ed and Ein can monitor your progress from Tomato!" the girl announced, in the middle of a pitiful excuse for a pirouette. "And Edward will call Spike-person and Faye-Faye with updates!"

"Gee, you guys have this all worked out, don't you?"

Spike shrugged, dropping the remnants of his cigarette to the ground and putting it out with the heel of his shoe. "Guess we do. Can we go now?"

"Get out of here," Jet said. "And you better damn well be careful in there! That's a sixty billion double-dollar bounty in there. He's probably incredibly dangerous."

"Well, so is Spike," Faye retorted with a smirk. "So they should even out, right?"

Ed laughed. "Don't be silly, Faye-Faye! Two dangerous persons just mean the boom will be bigger." The girl grinned hopping around, alternating between the tiptoes of her feet.

Faye moaned, cradling her face in her hands as she moaned loudly. "Thanks a bunch for the confidence booster, Ed."

Spike grinned and headed for the rover. He lifted the tarp on the back of the rover to reveal a crate of artillery. They had weapons running out their ears, including enough explosives hold a small moon hostage.

"Oh my God," Faye groaned.

Edward giggled.

"Bye-bye, Faye-Faye!"

This was going to be a hell of a long day.


	17. Chapter Fourteen

FOURTEEN: jeep tracks

"Vash'll be coming back shortly, and you can tell him how you feel then."

Meryl had never actually spoken up on the matter, and Milly hadn't really asked, but somehow the girl seemed to have a knack for saying the right thing at just the wrong time. Her friend gave her a stunned look and then turned away, turning bright red as she averted her eyes to the shadows of the corridor, where Vash had disappeared to.

Milly grabbed her injured arm twisting it to check the bandages. "You really shouldn't pick at it, Meryl."

"My arm's fine, Milly," she groused. She shivered. Her jacket was set aside so that her big friend could take care of her arm, and she wore only the tank top that she typically wore as an undershirt. On top of that, she was starting to get cold. "Really. Would you stop prodding over it?"

"Now now. I'm just doing what I think is best."

Meryl lowered her eyes. She sighed. "Milly, I can't tell Vash anything about how I feel," she whispered.

"Huh?"

"Come on! You know what it means to be what he is."

Milly gave her a look. "So?"

Meryl stared at her. "_So?!_ Milly, don't you understand?" she sighed. "After all you've learned about the man, how can you possibly think anything could be so simple?"

"It's only as complicated as you make it, Meryl." She gentle stroked her fingers through Meryl's hair, knocking out the sand that had been gathered during the skirmish with the sentry drone. "You know you can tell Mr. Vash anything. He has a heart of gold and he respects you. Nobody else follows him into danger like you have. You've even fought for him. I don't know anyone who has done more for his cause."

Meryl closed her eyes, letting the big girl smooth her hair. "You're wrong, Milly. I can't tell him…and the point is…the point is…oh… Damnit, nothing could ever come of it, no matter how I feel about him."

"You care about him. What else matters?"

"He's a walking disaster, Milly!" Meryl snapped. She closed her eyes, forcing her anger down. "We're with him, aren't we? At this point, there's nothing more we can do for him. Anything I told him now would just complicate things. Besides, it's not like I love him or…"

Milly turned her eyes to her friend, curious at the startled look on her friend's face. "Meryl, are you okay?"

_Love…_ The thought stopped there. She couldn't pinpoint the origins of the thought, only knew that somehow it bound her to Vash in a way that she couldn't define. Her heart began to race. The realization struck her like a jolt of electricity. Love. Why else would she cross this desolate world to a location where the towns were few and far between? Vash would come here because it was out of the way. She had come here after Vash, and for what? _For love._ She was in love with Vash. She blinked a moment and put her head in her hands. Of all the times to realize what the strange sensation was racing through her, body and soul. She dried her eyes with her thumb and stared at the ground.

"My God. I'm in love with him. I really am in love with him."

And Milly had been trying to tell her for a long time. They had to follow him because Meryl cared so much for him. True love bore bonds stronger than steel. It brought people together across time and space, and somehow it had brought Meryl here, to join Vash at this place, to help him to shoulder a terrible burden. And it was all worth it, thanks to love.

"I know! I've been trying to tell you!" Milly was grinning ear-to-ear. It made Meryl glow with embarrassment.

"Milly, stop that!" She clung to her arm, lowering her eyes. "Nothing can ever come of it. You know that. I can't tell him."

"Nonsense, Meryl. It's just like my big big sister always says: if you really care for somebody in your heart then it doesn't matter who that person is. If you don't tell him how you feel, you'll live to regret it." She grabbed Meryl's arm again, picking at the bandage. Meryl could see by the crimson specks in the wrap that it would have to be changed soon. "So stop being a fool. You fret too much over the stupid things and the important things will slip right through your fingers."

Meryl sighed and reached for her jacket. It was getting too cold in this place.

She could hear the determination in Milly's voice. She spoke like a woman with experience. Maybe she was, for she had held Wolfwood. Meryl had often wondered what that night had been like for the two of them. She was jealous that her friend had found pleasure amidst the suffering of the duty they had shouldered together.

"Maybe I am a fool. Maybe it's just the way I am." Meryl sighed. "Since you insist, I'll try to tell him."

Milly glared at her. "You had better tell him, Meryl, or I'll tell him for you. You don't know how hard it was for me when I lost Nicholas. We…uh…" The big girl blushed, fidgeting nervously with her coat. "We spent the night together they day he died. You might remember. But it hurts because I never had the chance to tell him I loved him before he left. 'Don't you leave this spot. I'll come back to find you, Milly.' That's what he said, so I didn't leave." The big girl sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. "You don't understand how much it hurts, but you will if you don't tell Vash how you feel."

She closed her eyes, and embraced Meryl into one of those giant, all-encompassing hugs that she shared every so often, feeling her soft hair against her cheek.

"I still cry for him, you know. In my sleep. My big sister says that you can tell a lot about a person by the way she dreams."

Meryl gazed to her friend, tears in her eyes as she nodded. She didn't truly understand her friend's pain, though she thought maybe she needed to. They had been together for so long, and there was nothing she could use to compare emotions.

"I miss him too, Milly," she whispered, embracing her big friend just as she was being embraced. For a moment, she thought that maybe she had found the strength to tell him everything on her mind.

The question would, how long would that strength remain?

----------

He slipped toward the geo-plant with a loving gaze in his eyes, watching with hope in his heart. To find one so full of life after all this time was utterly amazing. The concern he had was the amount of lives he felt within it. They were lives that couldn't possibly be supported by the plant. Life forms similar to himself and Knives. But how? He didn't even understand the intricacies of his own origins, throughout gestation within the geo-plant.

Scratching his chin, Vash drew a deep breath and touched his fingers to the glowing orb. "It's all right, my friend. I just need your help, that's all. I need to understand. Show me. Please."

He shut his eyes and felt the warmth of the plant flowing through him.

He felt nothing as he slid mentally through a pool of bright light, so intense that he thought he might be blind. Soon, yellow eyes appeared in the glow, and the intensity dwindled. The creature blinked, watching back at him, as patient as any beast he had ever seen. He gazed with wonder at the being, the plant itself.

He had figured out that this had been the type of creature responsible for his conception. How was beyond a mystery to him. But he could feel it within him, an odd energy tingling within his soul.

The being's eyes widened, fixing him with an intense stare. Vash's eyes flashed in return as a series of images rattled off in his brain.

Knives and himself playing as children in the rec. room on the Project SEEDS flagship. The rubble of downed starships strewn about the Gunsmoke landscape. A slender, feminine silhouette, and then a close-up of the woman, opening her piercing, emerald eyes as a hand stroked a long, blond braid that hung from her shoulder. Vash himself, wandering the desert as a gun-slinging vagabond. Images of the fight with Knives in an attempt to ward off certain death.

And a man in black, watching down on it all with a sinister smirk on his face. Standing with him, hundred of children, each looking to be about ten years of age, lined up like soldiers in a battalion…

Vash opened his eyes. Once again, he stood before the geo-plant, gazing up into the giant orb. Slowly, he took his hands from the plant, blinking. He couldn't find the strength to thank the being, though he saw one golden eye peering at him through the hazy glass.

"What the hell is going on?" he murmured to the plant. Of course, it had no answer for him, only the constant flood of dark, silent visions that filled his soul.

----------

Meryl thought for a moment before she turned to gaze upon her friend, staring into the shadows with unshed tears glistening in her soft, blue eyes. Neither had said a thing for some time now. The big girl had a crushing hold on her left hand, refusing to let go. Meryl had wanted to say something, anything, other than the promise that Milly desired, but she knew there would be no other way to get her hand back than to admit the truth swarming through her heart. She loved Vash.

_You're gonna have to come clean, Meryl, _she thought._ If you really care, you're going to have to prove it, to yourself and to Milly. And to him. Quit pussyfooting around the situation and show some guts already._

"I'll tell him," she whispered. "I promise you, alright, Milly? Since it's so important to you."

With a sad smile, Milly met her eyes. "Don't do it because it's important to me. Do it because it's important to you."

Meryl blinked.

Milly smiled that golden smile and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. "It'll mean so much more to him though. Mr. Vash is still a big baby at heart. He worries so much about everything. He'll melt like butter if you just tell him how you feel."

Meryl frowned, gazing to the ground. _Maybe you should make the decisions from now on, Milly._ She remembered her words almost fondly. It was her own, private joke that she shared with no one, because when the time came, Milly _did_ make the decisions, whether or not she truly understood. She gave the big girl's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Do you really think it would mean so much to him? I'm not even sure he'll understand what I'd be trying to tell him."

"Don't be silly, Meryl. We're talking about Vash, and he listens to everyone with an open heart." Milly grinned. "Don't think he doesn't care. In fact I think it would mean so much more coming from you."

Meryl gave her friend a look that spoke of assumed reality. "Caring about someone is a lot different then what we are talking about, Milly," she said, and sighed softly. She looked away, closing her eyes.

"Don't kid yourself."

"Huh?" Meryl looked back up to her friend.

Milly still had that big grin on her face. "I see it in your eyes, Meryl. You just don't trust yourself to say the right thing."

Meryl averted her eyes. "What I mean, Milly…" She paused. Her friend was exactly right, especially now. She didn't have a clue what she should be trying to tell her, but she knew she had to say something. "The truth is, maybe what I feel for Vash is a lot stronger then what he feels for me." She clasped her hands to her chest in front of her and then stood up slowly. "It just seems to me that if he really loved me, he would have come back for us after he defeated Knives. He didn't. I don't want to throw more fuel into a fire that should have died out a long time ago."

Milly frowned up to her friend and lowered her gaze. "All right. I won't push you anymore Meryl. But how are you ever gonna know if you never ask?"

"I know what you're asking me, Meryl. And I understand. Thank you, Milly, and I will tell him. Someday." She sighed and shrugged. "But I think we have bigger problems at the moment."

"There are no bigger problems then matters of the heart."

Vash wasn't even paying attention as he strode into the room, deep in thought. He was so silent, he even surprised the girls. He mumbled quietly to himself as he came to Milly's side and flopped onto the ground, rubbing his right hand with the fake of his prosthetic arm, lost in thought.

Meryl could hear the last of what he said. "Who did this? It's not a normal process. There're way to many to be normal."

She sighed. "Vash? Did you find what you were looking for?"

He turned his attention up to her, as though noticing for the first time his friends were with him. He offered a small smile, quickly replaced with a sigh and a shrug. "I don't know," he admitted. "I honestly don't know."

Meryl nodded and gazed to the ground. She realized at that moment that her jacket was still open. Trembling fingers went up and started to fumble with the buttons. Her eyes, relieved for the reprieve, simply watched her fingers work.

Vash watched her them as well. Slowly, he wet his lips. "Those things in the geo-plant. There's no doubt about it. They're the same type of being that I am." He closed his eyes. Milly's hand touched his, a wordless assurance that brought a smile to his face. "I'm grateful to have you girls with me. I never could ask you to come with me, but I knew you'd follow me anyway, and that couldn't make me happier."

"Vash, we didn't follow you a year ago, and we lost you because of it," Milly announced. "I think I speak for the both of us when I say we won't let you out of our sights again. Every time you do, you disappear and go off to get yourself into trouble."

Meryl had to grin. "I think you're stuck with us."

He smiled. "Guess so."

She hugged herself, peering silently about the corridor. It was dark, and quiet. It made the cold seep into her jacket, saturating her with its chill. She hated this situation. Why was it always like this? She had retained every memory from the past few year, and even some from before. There were some that she would rather forget, but none more than the lonely feeling she got whenever she was apart from her friends. It amplified the cold. She closed her eyes and realized that there were good memories, as well. Some she would cherish forever, so long as she lived, reminders that her future belonged to her, and whoever she chose to share it with.

"Vash, is there anything else we need to do here?"

He looked to her. "I think we're done," he whispered. "I'd like to take a look around before we head off. I don't really know if I care to leave, though. We can't go back to Black Rock, and there isn't a decent shelter for at least another five hundred iles."

He gazed about, considering the world around him with a frown.

"Besides, I don't think it's wise to just leave a place like this alone. I mean, there's going to be another hundred or so like me here very soon."

"Well, let's at least go outside and make sure that no one is around before we decide to set up. Besides, I could use some fresh air." She glanced to Milly, giving her a little smile, though by the look on her friend's face, she could tell that her own worries were apparent. "Then we can do something about dinner."

Milly smiled. "You two go on ahead. I'll have a look around for the kitchen."

"Milly, I don't think that's such a great idea…"

"No, go ahead," Vash said. "We're alone here. You'll be okay. If you can find the kitchen, we'll be all set. The rations on a ship like this can last eons."

Meryl gave him a look. "Rations?"

"Trust me. It's not as bad as it sounds."

He hopped to his feet and headed back out the way he had come. Meryl gave Milly a shaky smile and followed him down the dark corridor. His eyes moved about the world around him. Sometimes Meryl thought it looked as though he wasn't paying attention, but for all the time they'd been together, she knew better. The thing was, Vash saw and heard _everything_.

She sighed, her eyes continually moving from the floor to the man who walked several paces in front of her. She worried about him, and knew that he worried about her. He worried about everyone. She glanced to the room containing the geo-plant as they passed. An odd feeling came over her, sending shivers up her spine. She shook her head and continued on after him.

As they approached the hole in the doorway that he'd created with his hidden machine-gun, Meryl cast a worried glance behind her. She felt guilty about leaving Milly behind. The girl hadn't even tried to stay with them, and the last thing that she wanted to be left alone with this man. She wanted to be by her friend.

Suddenly, Meryl also realized just why she was alone with him. Milly had quite skillfully gotten rid of the two of them to give her the opportunity to speak her piece to him. _That little devil,_ Meryl thought, shaking her head. She looked again to the man as he slipped out into the cave. She went out just after him. Breathing in the heat of the desert air, letting it wrap around her. It was still here, as they were covered on all sides by the walls of the cave.

It was warm, yet at the same time, it refreshed her. Eventually the reason for this walk came up in her mind, and taking a deep breath, she spoke. "Vash…I have a question to ask, and something to tell you."

"Hmm?" He knelt to the ground, slowly gliding his fingers over the sand.

"If that's all right with you," she said, watching him nervously.

Vash frowned. "Strange. But who else would know?" She closed her eyes. He wasn't paying attention to her right now. It troubled her a little. She felt the walls of her existence closing thoroughly around her. She was grateful to be at his side, along with Milly—they were her two best friends on this entire, miserable planet. She thought back to the day Legato had threatened their lives.

Next to her, Vash shook his head, trying to understand.

Meryl swallowed. She'd been watching him since they'd come out, and now she wondered why he was inspecting the sand. Was there something there that she could not see, something she was missing? She looked up, caught his gaze. He shook his head and touched the ground again.

"What is it? Vash…is something wrong?"

"Jeep tires," he muttered.

Meryl frowned. "What?"

"Somebody's been here. Recently. I don't know how they got in here before—the cave was sealed." He glanced to her. "But they were here. These are jeep tracks. Old model, too." He ran his fingers over the sand. She lowered to investigate. Sure enough, she could see the faded pattern of car tires imprinted in the sand. "The kind people used almost a hundred years ago."

She gave him a look.

He sighed. "We should try to figure out who they were and how they got here."

"Whoever was here must have been the ones who activated the sentry," Meryl murmured.

"Probably." He glanced to her. "Who knows how long ago they were here. These tracks are going away. I'm not sure where they came in from. There must be a hidden tunnel around here somewhere."

He stood and looked at her. She stared back, lost in her thoughts, wondering if her moment to speak with him of more personal matters had passed. He seemed distracted. Meryl averted her eyes. "I…uh…think we're going to be all right for the moment," she said. "It's pretty quiet now."

He nodded. "I think so."

"So what next?"

He shrugged, turning to gaze to the break overhead. Only a little blue could be seen of the sky from here. The rest of the outside was hidden beyond the shadowy corners of this strange cavernous shelter.

Meryl stared quietly at her feet, lost in thought. In her mind she was replaying the gentle warning that Milly had shared with her. Her tender journey with the one she loved on a single night of passion. How deeply she cared for Wolfwood, and how he had shown his love for her. However, it was the way the journey ended that would forever haunt Milly's soul: that she was unable to tell him how deeply she loved him in return. Meryl tried to imagine a life without Vash in it. It would be a lot calmer, a lot less worrisome, definitely a lot less interesting, but…

Meryl knew one thing for certain. She didn't want a life without Vash.

She had experienced that for over a year. It left her heart pounding to realize that she had been searching for him for that precise reason. Tucking a long strand of shiny, black hair behind her ear, she focused her intense, violet gaze on him.

He watched back, frowning intently.

Finally, she reached out and took his hand. She knew that if she wanted his full attention, there would have to be that connection, that contact that would tell him that she needed him, that he was hers to command, at least for this moment. Seeing his eyes on her nearly made her turn away, but Meryl knew how important this moment was, not only to her friend back inside, and for this man standing before her, but for her own fragile heart.

She breathed deeply. "Vash, I have something I need to tell you. It's important."

He nodded. "I'm here."

She withdrew her had and took a step away, turning her back to him to stare off at nothing in particular. She waited, but she didn't hear him turn away or so much as breathe. Well, at least she knew she had his attention. "I realized something today, while you were off doing whatever it was you did. I realized how much you meant to me."

She waited. He didn't move, didn't speak.

She stared at her feet again, searching for the right words. Of course, they never came to her whenever she most needed them.

"What I'm trying to say, Vash, is…" _For God's sake, Meryl, just say it._ "I love you." The instant those three words slid from her lips, she felt refreshed. She closed her eyes, breathing in as the heavy weight was finally lifted from her shoulders. Damn, it was great to be alive. "I love you," she said again.

She turned to him, lifting her gaze to meet his.

"I love you, Vash," she murmured, staring deeply into those beautiful, emerald eyes. He watched back, eyes wide. "I have since before you disappeared a year ago. I think it's why I needed to find you so desperately." She wrapped her arms around herself, averting her eyes. Suddenly, she felt so small, trapped here in his presence. "I can't believe it took me so long to figure in out…but, I guess…I guess I didn't want something to happen and lose the chance to tell you how I feel."

He stared at her as if his heart had stopped, taking in every word with wide eyes, so tense it looked as thought he would fall apart if she so much as touched him. She didn't know exactly what was in his heart at the moment, but she suspected that in some form, it was her and her alone. He looked lost, as if he had been blindsided by a bus.

Meryl had to shake her head, looking away. _At least that's how I would feel, if I were in his shoes._

She suspected that he had known for some time that she had grown to care for him. That was painstakingly obvious, in everything she had done since relocating him after his first disappearance, following the Fifth Moon incident.

She could see him struggling, gazing down to her.

"It's okay, Vash. I'm here for you."

_For as long as you allow…_


	18. Chapter Fifteen

FIFTEEN: screw it

_I love you, Vash._

For a moment, as she spoke to him, Vash felt his heart stop. He watched her, refusing to take his eyes from her, locked in the passion of the moment. He had heard the three little words that he had thought he would never here, from the very woman he had known would never speak them. Not to him anyway.

He knew that she had grown to care for him. He had known for a long time, since he'd told her something that still clutched his soul on occasion. _It's your job or your life._

He remember the crushed look he'd seen on her face then, almost as though she'd had her heart torn from her chest. He'd known then that she'd developed feeling for him, but he had thought she had seen him as a friend and no more. Of course, she would never see him _that_ way. It just wasn't natural for a guy with his reputation to attract a girl like her. Vash just wasn't the kind of man who demanded the love of any woman, especially a shrew like Meryl.

But things had changed and somehow he had swayed her heart in a direction he hadn't intended.

_I love you, Vash._

So that's how she felt. It sent Vash spinning into a whirlwind of emotion.

He thought of that moment he'd spent in the tavern back at Black Rock, holding Meryl in his arms. He had taken a moment to reflect on his past, admiring her long and beautiful hair, still shorter than Rem's had been, though not by much. He realized it was more than the hair that drew him to her. It was her compassion. She had a businesslike drive to do anything and everything to better her life. Most would prefer the simple route.

Not Meryl. She hadn't even chosen the simple route to Vash's heart, though he would have easily opened the gate for her a long time ago.

Despite Legato and the Gung-Ho Guns.

Despite Knives.

He drew a deep breath and finally spoke. "You don't know how much that means to me Meryl. It must have taken a lot of time to build up the nerves to say it." He reached out and drew the tiny woman into his embrace. "We have a lot of work to do," he whispered after a moment. "_I_ have a lot of work. I would care for nothing more than to have you at my side forever."

He held her back, gazing into her eyes.

There was a word waiting there, on the tip of his tongue. A word he dreaded for fear of what it might do to her. The word to kill all words:

"But…"

She closed her eyes and sighed. There was a quiet moment between them, a moment in which she gathered the strength to hear what he had to tell her. By her expression, he knew she was preparing to be as gently let down as Vash the Stampede could let her down.

He didn't want to do that. He dreaded doing that, especially to her.

"But," she prompted.

Vash closed his eyes. He was struggling saying exactly what needed to be said, to tell her that the last thing he would ever want to do was harm anyone, and he knew rejection could be more painful than the harm any weapon could cause. He took her in his arms once more and closed his eyes. She was stiff in his embrace; the hug felt awkward and forced.

Fighting back tears, Vash lay his face against the top of her head. For a long moment they waited there together, struggling.

Tears drizzled into her hair, soaking the soft, black locks.

"You know," he whispered. "I didn't think it could possibly be this hard."

"Just say it, Vash," she murmured. He took the strength from her voice to do what was right, but all the strength in the world couldn't help him because he simply couldn't decide which path was right.

The thought ran through his mind, something that had occurred to him as he lay next to a sleeping Meryl the night before. _Oh Rem, is this what it's like? Is this the moment you were telling me to keep my eyes and heart open for?_

Sadly, there was a different emotion attached to that question now.

He hated this, hated it more than anything.

"Meryl, I love you, too. I don't ever want to leave you. I don't want you to ever part from me. But…"

_There's that god-damn word again._

"We have so much to do. I don't know what we're facing here, but it can't be good. We have a spawning geo-plant, and that scares the hell out of me. There's so many of them… I don't think it could possibly be natural."

He stopped himself. What the hell was he doing? He was taking Meryl's moment and twisting it into his own concerns. As important as those concerns truly were, Rem had once told him that he had to respect the feelings of others.

He blinked and looked quietly into those twin violet pools, staring back at him with tears pouring from them in currents, searching her heart. He could see the pain in them, knew that it bore more deeply into her heart than he could have ever imagined. He was tormenting her, and it was all because of his own selfishness.

He reached out and took her gently, holding her arms just below her shoulders. She tried to take advantage of the brief silence, started to speak, but he didn't hear her. He was watching her, dispelling his own troubles in a single moment, as a one simple thought came to him.

_Screw it._

He bent forward and pressed his lips to hers.

----------

Meryl felt the tear staining her hair, felt the pain that was mixed within them, causing some to fall from her own eyes to the ground below. She had been expecting rejection, bracing herself from the pain that was sure to follow that dreadful notion. She felt so small here, trapped in his embrace.

His words came slowly, thoughtfully. She shared his heartache as admitted his love for her and went on about the troubling mystery of geo-plant. Those pained thoughts filled her with a light that she never expected to feel. She waited for her moment and when he paused, she took her chance to speak.

"Vash, whatever comes we will face it to–"

He wasn't listening. She could see it in his eyes. There was something else there that took hold of him and pulled him away from his troubles. Something that pulled him to her. In that moment, her words were silence there, locked behind the unexpected pressure of a kiss. A warmth spread through her from his hands; her initial shock wore thin and her eyes slid shut. A soft sigh escape her as she lost herself in the moment.

If there had been any part of her that had been holding back from this love she had discovered within her, it was lost to her then and there. Her hands moved up from their place at her side and wrapped around his waist. She returned the kiss with a passion that sealed him to her for all eternity.

----------

He felt her arms around him.

Vash, who had a strange habit of following women around like a loyal puppy, had not once in his life found himself in this position. Oh, he'd held girls briefly and even been kissed here or there, but this was a moment that tore his heart out.

Those other kisses had been nothing compared to this. Usually on the cheek or an occasional peck on the lips. Usually the girl hadn't even known what she was doing. Usually they didn't realize who he was. Usually, he was holding back. But this was Meryl.

Here was a girl who had known him for a long time, a girl that had a chance to experience most of his many sides, his vast multitude of psychological facets.

Here was a girl who knew the Humanoid Typhoon, who could topple entire cities in a matter of seconds.

Here was a girl who had been so demanding for so long that he'd known her as nothing more than a bitch for a long time.

And, on top of it all, here was a 132-year-old man who had given up on love countless years ago, kissing her ferociously, so hungrily, that it gave him a headache. This was one headache he would treasure until the end of his days.

The taste of her made his eyes water, along with the feel of her tiny body crushed against him, and the animalistic way she returned his passion. Here, Vash the Stampede hung up his nickname for the first time in ages. here, lost in her arms, he was simply Vash.

And he was holding her, simply Meryl.

----------

She lost more than her heart. In those first few moment when Vash held her so tightly in his arms, Meryl lost her soul. For the first time in her life, Meryl no longer cared about the consequences that came with all that life had to offer. All that truly mattered was this man, and this moment.

The past melted away, taking with it the sorrows of yesterday. Forgotten was the pain that either of them had suffered through the trials of life. Gone was the fear at what would happen when the moment ended.

All that was left was two hearts, intertwined.

Beating as one.

Somewhere along the line, she lost had herself and become a part of this man who held her as if she would fall away. Somewhere along the line she had lost all sense of common thought or care.

All that mattered was that she was in love with this man.

He, who carried such a powerful and painful burden. Like a girl she knew, awaiting their return in the SEEDS shuttle, he had a heart so enormous it included all of the world, and somehow, still had room for her.

She loved him for everything he was and wasn't and knew without a doubt that he loved her for all the same reasons. What was beyond them was obsolete. What lay behind them was already forgotten.

Her hands moved from his side to climb slowly, one cupping his sweet face, the other bracing itself against his neck, pulling him to her with a fear that if she didn't he would draw back and disappear and she would lose him forever.

No, the rest of the world did not have a place here in this massive cavern. The rest of the world had been cast aside to be locked away in the blistering heat of the desert sun.

All that mattered was this moment, instilled in time.

The world was lost unto him.

Here he was, holding her. His head swam with visions of the future, of the future he wanted for himself. A calm life in a beautiful place with his wonderful friends alongside him. He wanted paradise…Eden, as Rem had called it.

_Rem…_

The thought of her name swept him away from this girl he kissed, taking him back to his childhood, to a moment he had shared with Rem…

----------

_"Vash? What are you doing in here?"_

_He looked up. Though he was scarcely eight months old, he seemed to be closer to eight years, in physical development as well as mental aptitude. He grinned up to her and showed her what he had found, tucked away in a box below his bed._

_Rem gasped. "I don't believe it! Vash, thank you so much!" She knelt next to him and slipped the small object from his hands and slid it on her ring finger. The large gem sparkled as brilliantly as her dark eyes. "Oh, I was so afraid I'd lost it. Thank you, Vash."_

_She rewarded him with a tender kiss on the forehead._

_For a moment, Vash looked confused. "But Rem, it's just a rock."_

_She laughed. "Oh, Vash." She reached out and cupped his cheek. "I guess you're right. It's just a rock. But to me, it's so much more. It's very symbolic."_

_"Symbolic? You mean like a red geranium?"_

_She giggled. "That's right. It was given to me by a man who promised to love me forever. It's an engagement ring."_

_"I don't know what that means."_

_"It means we were to be married, silly."_

_"Married?"_

_"Yes. You see Vash, when a man and a woman grow to love each other so much that their hearts are overflowing, they often choose to bind their love in the form of matrimony. Marriage. It takes more than a single vessel to carry such a delicate love, and the couple may consummate their relationship through vows that they will never lose their love for one another and that they will stay together until their very lives drain from their bodies."_

_"Wow. I never thought of it like that before. Love must be a very fragile thing."_

_Rem smiled that delicate, perfect smile. "It's the most fragile of things. At the same time, the bonds of love are stronger than death."_

_Vash frowned at that, but he decided he wasn't ready to hear that side of the story. Not yet. Instead, he asked another question that had crossed his mind. "How will I know if I ever find love."_

_She giggled. "Oh Vash, you're such a baby!"_

_"Rem!"_

_"Love is infinite, sweetie. It is intricate, and at the same time, so painfully simple. I found love in the arms of the man who gave me this ring in one fleeting moment when he came to me and swept me away. I call it a perfect moment. You can't plan a moment like this, Vash. It comes to you without mercy and tears you away from the simple life you knew, but at the same time it breathes into you fresh life, and the strength of another's love." She touched his hand, her smile glowing as it always did. "It is the moment you must keep your eyes and heart open for, because when it does come, it can so easily slip by unnoticed."_

----------

Vash opened his eyes suddenly, still locked away in his own perfect moment.

_Oh God… It's true, Rem. Oh, thank you…_

His lips slowly slipped from hers, his green eyes rolling over the delicate features of her perfect face, waiting for her to open her eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Or was it hers? Not that it really mattered. They were so close not that their hearts might as well beat as one. The heat of her flowed through his veins, and vice versa.

She was here. She was his.

And he was hers, now and forever.

Her hand had long since slipped from his face to his chest. She felt the pull there, the strength. The beating of his heart answered in call to the beating of her own. It was magical. She had not realized truly that he had pulled away from her, even apart she was still somehow connected to him. Throughout the fragile thread of life, that was the way it would always be. She felt it in her bones.

It took her many long seconds to regain herself, to pull herself from that moment that had enveloped her so completely. Slowly though, her eyes opened, almost seeming to give off a gentle hazy glow in the aftermath of a perfect moment. Blinking slowly, she raised her gaze elegantly to meet his.

Cheeks flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, all signs of the tender moment that had just unfolded between them, she silently thanked whoever there was to thank for this wonderful man who clung to her. The one that came to mind was Rem. She wished she could have known him as he had, to understand exactly just what a wonder she truly was.__

"I love you," she whispered. It was the only thing that seemed appropriate to shatter the silence that had taken hold.

In the old days, he would have melted before any pretty young lady that had looked his way, but this time was different. Then, it would have been nothing more than a passing fancy. Vash knew without a doubt that this was something far more permanent. This was indeed that perfect moment Rem had told him to watch for. It was as if she had known precisely when the situation would arise, precisely who the girl would be. He wanted to take Meryl in his arms against and hold her for all eternity. He was tempted to pull her to him and show her so much more than a kiss.

"I love you too," he whispered, taking her hands in his own.

"Wow," Meryl breathed, gazing up to him with tears in her violet eyes.

He grinned. And then he stepped to her side, draping an arm around her, and finally pried his eyes from her face. He looked to the ship, eyeing the word "SEEDS" painted in big block letters against the dull gray metal of the hull.

Project SEEDS, the organization that Rem had aided, the group that had worked so hard to achieve a desperate goal, had finally come full circle.

"Thinking about Rem?"

He nodded. "Always. There's so much that reminds me of her. But even good things can fade into twilight." He smiled down to her. "It forces us to remember that life proceeds in a constant cycle, and that we must learn to accept the bad along with the good. And if the bad seems to grow against you, it helps to remember there will always be good on the other side, waiting to be found."

Meryl smiled. "Is that something she once said to you?"

He laughed. "It does sounds like her, doesn't it?" He looked down to her. "But no, that was all me, Meryl."

"She seems like the kind of person needed in this world. She lives in you now, though, doesn't she? I can almost see her, the things you say sometimes. The look in your eyes when you remember her. It all makes perfect sense, now that I understand this woman who you idolize so much."

The two of them grinned at the thought, like two children lost in the memory of a vivid tale of inspiration. For Vash, there was no more inspirational figure than Rem Saverem. Meryl believed that the past could be kept alive by remembering the people who had experience it. It could be passed on by people like Vash, who could share it with those that would continue on with the story.

Such stories were never truly forgotten.

He held her close to his side, thinking of the tender moment they had just shared. His heart was still overflowing, a flood of emotion that held him so tightly he thought he might never escape its wrath.

It was impossible, and they both knew it.

"I wish she were here now. I think she'd like you very much."

With that, he led her back into the ship, holding her by his side.

He never wanted to let her go.

----------

He soon came to a valley cradled beneath towering pillars of stone. He kicked sand up behind his bike, racing across the desert. His eyes scanned the horizon searching for his target. Vash the Stampede was out there somewhere, he was certain.

Off in the distance, to the west, he caught sight of a break in the sand, so dark it couldn't be normal.

He realized he was looking at a cave.

Of course. If there was any place to rest throughout the desert, it would be the hidden caves riddled here and there across the wasteland.

He directed his bike toward the cave to investigate.

----------

She fiddled with it despite the nagging warning at the back of her brain to leave it where it lay. She couldn't help herself. There was just the sudden urge to mess with something out of the ordinary, something that simply didn't belong.

How had it gotten here?

Frowning, Milly nudged it again with her toe. It didn't budge. Was it dead? The big girl fidgeted nervously as she tried to contemplate its purpose. Blood smeared the ground beneath it, staining what she imagined had been a beautiful, white coat in its own gore. It seemed dead enough, but she still feared those big, red eyes, the glistening fangs that lined its jaw. Shuddering, she looked away.

The gunshot wounds that littered its side told her that the poor creature had not had a chance to defend itself. It made her nervous. The poor thing…

She wondered what type of creature it had been.

It looked like a dog, but it was much bigger than any dog she had ever seen. She wondered what a giant dog was doing in this strange place. And what terrible person had taken a gun and executed it? That thought alone broke Milly's heart.

Something shuffled in the darkness to her right. There was the sound of a soft growl. The big girl turned her head slightly to the darkness.

The glow of big, red eyes in the shadows was unmistakable.

Milly froze.

She was not alone.

----------

Meryl clung tightly Vash's side as they moved back down the dark corridors of the ship. She couldn't help but wonder at what he was thinking, and as she turned her face upwards to look to his, she knew that she didn't have to think too hard what was on his mind. Their future.

The future that could never be.

Things at this moment were so unpredictable, it was almost too obvious that the perfect bliss of that past moment would come crashing down on them.

It was all too perfect.

Meryl didn't want to think about the ultimate conclusion that lay ahead. She was hoping that somehow she would be wrong and their would be a happy ending, but in this life… In this world…

Ultimately, she knew it was too much to ask for.

He held her to his side, no doubt thinking similar thoughts, though neither had the heart to say what was on their minds. Their hearts were lost in a torrent of emotion, and they dreaded bringing those thoughts to the forefront of conversation. They simply didn't deserve it. No doubt they could handle it, but it seemed a crime to delve into those waters now.

So he simply took her through the ship and led her back to find Milly. The big girl would want to know.

"I didn't think she'd go this far," he said after awhile, as they slipped through dark corridors that Meryl had not yet seen. "Guess we're going to do a bit more exploring."

Meryl's thoughts of the tormented future with Vash gave way to fresh worries. She glanced up to the man at her side. "Vash, you don't think there's anything in here that could be dangerous, do you?" It had been troubling her since before their confessions outside. He gave her a look, and he could see the fear in those twin violet pools. "We need to find her."

He shrugged. "Hard to tell. I'd say those plant spawn are dangerous enough, but who can say?"

He led her down the hall, his eyes slipping through the shadows. She could see a glimmer of doubt in his eyes, a serious frown that told her he wasn't sure what was wrong, but there was something. Something he could quite lay his finger on. When Vash had that look in his eye, it typically meant trouble was on the horizon. If not closer.

With a slow breath, he gave her a look of warning.

Meryl brushed her hair out of her face with one hand as the other wrapped delicately around one of the derringers hidden within her cloak. It wasn't the situation that troubled her. Milly was a big girl that knew how to take care of herself. It was the look in his eyes. She followed after him slowly, preparing herself for whatever evil awaited them.

The gunshot came in unexpected. For Vash, it was a moment which stood still in time. He froze just as the bullet rushed past his chest, narrowly brushing the fabric of his poncho. It raced toward Meryl's head. Visions of a red explosion shook him furiously, tearing at his heart. A bullet meant for him, and it was clearly a kill shot if it stuck her.

He gave Meryl a sharp kick from behind, sending her forward just as the bullet ripped past her ear, grazing her hair. Vash's hidden machine-gun tore free of his left palm; it was up in an instant. One bullet was all he would need.

Meryl somehow held her footing and turned to see him. She pulled her derringer free an instant later. She could see his eyes widen at the target.

_Where is he?_

He fired the gun without exactly seeing. He was off again in an instant, grabbing Meryl by the waist and rushing deeper into the ship.

"You hit?" he asked as he ran, frustration and anger in his voice. She gave him a quick shake of her head and buried her face against his shoulder. It was surreal, that something like this would happen so soon after something so wonderful. He could feel her tears against his neck. She held in her questions for now, though he knew there would be a lot of them.

_I should have known! _he thought, furious with himself.

_Damnit, I should've known!_

----------

"Sonuva bitch. Missed him."

Jon dropped down from the ceiling. He held out his hand toward the shadows, summoning his weapon back to him. The rifle slipped through the air and met his hand a moment later. He knew he had made a huge error in judgment. He'd wanted better than this. The plan was to injure him before he could ever have a moment to suspect anything. Now the target would be able to prepare.

As he inspected the weapon, he realized that the barrel and been quite riddled with bullets. It was smashed in and partially melted. Vash's weapon had been quite effective.

Grunting, the bounty hunter tossed the ruined rifle aside.

It was no matter, really. He had other means to the right end. Vash couldn't defend them all.

He moved quickly, eyes narrowed in determination as he went to work.

----------

He ran. Meryl in his arms, he ran. His life, his heart.

She belonged with him. He wasn't about to lose her, not now that he'd somehow found the necessity to be with her. Furiously he searched for the nearest place to hide. Suddenly he came to a skidding halt and set Meryl down. She looked about, wondering why they had stopped, and then she saw it. A narrow shaft in the left wall that split off away from the main corridor.

"Keep on going. I'll wait for him here."

She froze. The hidden gun sprang free from the chamber in his wrist. He checked the sight, glancing back down the way they'd come.

"No!" She reached out and took his good arm. "Vash I can't leave you. Not now. Let me help."

"Just go!" he snapped. He glanced back to the darkness.

_He's good. Real good. How'd he get here, and how'd he know I was coming?_ Vash didn't speak his mind. There were too many questions. All he could do right now was what his heart told him, and his heart told him to face whatever it was that was after him alone. Meryl couldn't help. He shot a look to the girl, standing there, helplessly gazing to him. Sweat trickled down his face.

"Vash…"

"Please, I need you to trust me and just go. I'll find you when it's over."

He slipped into the darkness of the shaft, motioning for her to get moving.

----------

With a final, pained look, Meryl turned and fled down the corridor, taking her wherever it would lead. She slowed after a time, afraid she would run into trouble somehow. She hated the idea of leaving him behind, hated it with a passion, but she knew she couldn't stay.

She'd seen the determination on his face and she knew he would keep true to his word. He would fight the dangers, and he would survive. He would come back for her, just as he had promised.

"Please come back to me," she murmured as she leaned, exhausted, against a wall.

She felt as if she were being watched. She glanced around, wondering what so smoothly surrounded her and squeezed her into its brutal entrapment.

She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting to keep warm. She couldn't explain the cold, only that it never relinquished its command on her. _Milly, where are you?_ She felt alone, save for those sinister eyes she felt upon her with every moment that passed her by. Her best friend was missing and the love of her life had gone off to face whatever was following them.

One thing was clear: the fear of danger tore her to pieces.

----------

Something told her she should be frightened, but somehow she wasn't. She slipped deeper into the crevasse, heard the whimper of whatever the thing was, tucked into a mass of pipes and wire. She could see the little nose, the two big, red eyes peering at her, blinking every so often.

"You're real cute, ya know?" Milly whispered, beaming as only Milly could. She wanted to scoop the thing into her embrace, but she couldn't reach it. She didn't know if it was even a very good idea. The little guy whimpered a little. Milly giggled. "I bet Meryl'd love to see you. I wonder where they are."

She heard a distant bang, echoing against ships steel skeleton, but thought nothing of it. The ship was full of weird noises. She wondered how loud the thing was when it was up and running and full of people.

"So, how'd you get in here, anyway, little fella?"

----------

He slipped through the dark corridors of the ship, rifle in tow. He moved with confidence, dancing in and out of shadows like a ghost.

_I gotcha now, Vash the Stampede,_ he thought silently. _I can smell your fear. I can feel you trembling. I can taste your…_

Boot leather?

Sure enough, Jon caught sight of a boot aimed at his face. With a cry of surprise, he tried to dodge, but the kick was well-timed and perfectly aimed. His head rattled as the boot slammed into his jaw, sending him tumbling through the darkness. The rifle clattered away from him, well out of reach. He could see the silhouette of a man towering over him as he rolled over onto his side touching his jaw.

"Get out of here. You're not welcome here."

Vash the Stampede…

He was fast. He was accurate. But he wasn't ruthless. It was something he simply couldn't do. He started to turn away. His machine-gun slid back into its hidden chamber. The gunman straightened, sighing heavily.

Jon shuddered and started to crawl away.

"And don't ever come back."

Vash took her eyes from the man and started to walk away.

The sharp crack of a gunshot filled the corridor behind him. Vash's eyes widened. Instantly, he realized his mistake. He had begun to spin around, lifting his prosthetic arm, when the bullet exploded through his left leg.

With a cry of pain, Vash crumpled to the ground.

He was down, but by damned wasn't prepared to give up so easily. The hidden gun in his prosthetic arm sprung free. He sprayed the air over the intruder's head with bullets. The bounty hunter covered his head, cowering in fear. He realized in that moment that it was exactly as the others had told him. The idiot couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. _But he's firing so many god-damn rounds that he might actually get lucky and hit me,_ Jon thought. The smell of gunpowder was overpowering. His eyes watered fiercely as he started to crawl away as quickly as he possibly could.

Vash's cry could be heard over the gunfire, a constant scream that echoed through the corridor. Jon slipped down another corridor, rose to his feet and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

He had to get away from that madman…


	19. Chapter Sixteen

SIXTEEN: nightmare

Stryker tossed the butt of his cigarette to the sand and stared at the shuttle before him. "SEEDS," he muttered, wondering just what he was looking at. It was odd, every bit of it. His curiosity was only compounded by the strange noises emanating from within.

Quietly, he inspected the gaping hole where somebody had blasted his way through the entrance of the ship. He was amazed at the prospect of where this thing had come from. He had heard tales of this world's short history, how people from the stars had landed here more than a hundred years ago and made the planet habitable. Well, somewhat, anyway.

_It's him. Gotta be._

Stryker checked to see that his sidearm was still in its holster. Tapping the butt of his shotgun to the hard limestone floor, he slipped off into the shadows. He took no more than three or four steps when something short and slender crashed into him. It had the same effect of a motorcycle hitting a stone wall. The little man who ran into him dropped like a rock on his backside.

Stryker glared down at the little weasel.

"You're not him," he muttered. He bent down, collecting the weasel by the collar. "Where is he."

"Let go of me! He's crazy, I tell you! He's got shit for brains!"

Stryker frowned. "Vash the Stampede."

"He'll kill ya, man! Is it really worth your life?"

"If it was that easy to end my life, I wouldn't be here." He tossed the pencil-neck to the ground and lit a cigarette. "If you're really that scared of a few bullets, you're in the wrong profession, bounty hunter."

The man's eyes widened.

In that instant, the light of the downed shuttle flickered. He caught a clear view of the man, and in return his own face was bathed in light. The fear came almost instantly. "You?! Who the hell are you?! You're just not human!" Screaming he kicked at Stryker and fought to get away. "Let me go! Get off me, man!"

Stryker let him go. He soon found his way to the exit and disappeared out into the cave.

Stryker set his shotgun over his shoulder and made his way out into the darkness.

----------

She leaned there, stunned at the developments. Vash was in trouble, she could feel it in her bones. Something was desperately wrong. She wished Milly was with her, wished she could be with him as he faced these horrible moments. No one should have to face such times alone. He deserved her to be with him, and she deserved to be at his side.

That was when she heard it. The crack of gunfire made her stiffen. She spun around. She could tell that it wasn't Vash's hidden gun. _But what was…_ Her eyes widened as a cry of pain filled the corridor. "Vash!" She spun into the shadows and raced back the way she had come, desperate to find him again.

The sound of his machine-gun followed. She felt a little better, though not much. She had to find him. She had to be certain that he was okay.

Meryl pulled two derringers free, huffing and puffing all the way.

_I'm coming, Vash. Just hold on._

She knew she might only have one chance to hit the bastard. She dodged down the corridor, certain that he was in trouble, feeling that she was his only hope.

She had to reach him, even at the cost of her own life.

After what seemed like forever, she came into the poorly lit corridor where she had left him, as he asked her to. There he was, crumpled against the wall. In a split second, she understood that he'd been hit.

"I never should have left you," she whispered, and fell her knees at his side.

"No, you did exactly what you should have," he replied, leaning back. The pain was evident on his features.

"Vash, you're hurt."

"I'll be okay. He just hit my leg." The gunman shook a little and tried to force himself to his feet. Slipping in his own blood, he slumped back to the floor. She could see the crimson mess oozing from his left calf and dripping to the floor.

"Damnit Vash, you could have been killed!"

"Never that easy. There's only one of them, and he's down to a single gun." He paused, smiling. "Meryl, I'm glad you came back for me."

She gazed at him and blinked. Then she nodded. "We need to get you out of here, out of the open. What if he comes back? Can you move at all?" She doubted he could move without pain, judging the wound in his leg, but she knew Vash, and she knew he'd be able to make it. With her help, he'd make it. She'd drag him to shelter if she had to.

"I can make it," he said softly. He glanced quietly at her, no doubt concerned. "I think he's a bounty hunter. Whoever he is, he's good."

Meryl nodded. "Then let's get out of here."

She supported his weight, wrapping an arm around his waist as she helped him to his feet. She gazed up with concern in her violet eyes. She could tell he was in pain, but he didn't complain. She was so used to his wining that this situation was surreal. He seemed so much like a wounded soldier intent on going back for his comrades in the heat of a ferocious battle. Her heart swelled with pride for the simple fact that she knew him.

"We need to get that wound wrapped," she sighed. Her feet came up, and she could feel the soft pressure of blood sticking to the bottom of her shoe. She winced inwardly, longing for the nightmare to simply draw to an end.

She shot a look behind her as she took a derringer in her free hand. She was ready, though she knew that right now, Vash was a wounded duck, an easy target. He could barely walk even with her support. It scared her to death.

They started down the corridor, intent on finding a place to hide.

Vash closed his eyes. He wanted to tell her that the man had run away, that they were safe, but he had an odd feeling eating at the pit of his stomach. He wondered what cruelty was picking at his soul. He winced again as he put too much pressure on his left foot. Meryl fought to keep him on his feet, but he knew she couldn't last long. He was a big man, about six and a half feet tall. Meryl was more than a foot shorter than him. As tough as she was there was no way she could cart him around.

She already knew that. They both did, but she was stubborn as an ox. She wouldn't leave him behind. He wouldn't let her stay. The only option was to compromise, to help each other.

Why did he feel that he had made the wrong decision?

The answer came in the form of a black blur, rushing past them on Meryl's side. A powerful blow knocked the derringer free from her grip, sending it skittering across the ground. Vash screamed. For whatever reason, she knew it was the pain of his leg. He crumpled to the ground at her feet. Her heart sank as she felt the assailant come up in front of her, his face hidden by shadows.

He took a step forward, and he was in her face. An arm came up and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, twisting her head back painfully. The dim light cast a hazy glow on his sneering face, and Meryl felt her heart stop.

What he wanted, why he grabbed her, didn't matter.

What mattered was the familiar face that stared heatedly back at her. Piercing emerald eyes burned deep into her with a fire that she had known only a few times in her life. It couldn't be possible. There was no way. She didn't understand.

"No…"

His hair was different. It was longer than she had ever seen it on Vash and pulled back into a ponytail. Everything else about his face was a spot on a match, from his narrow nose to his sparkling white teeth and to his glistening emerald eyes, a friendly face on every other emotion. He put his gun to her chin, drawing it slowly along her neck. "Hold still," he whispered.

She did. She closed her eyes, begging for it to stop, praying for a miracle, but she couldn't say anything. She knew better than to speak, trembling as the cold steel rolled slowly down and into her Adam's apple. Was this the man who had fired at them before?

No, it wasn't. Not this man. This man wouldn't have missed, if he was who she thought he was.

After a moment, he flung her aside like a sack of potatoes. She hit the wall, her injured arm taking the brunt of the crash, and slid to the ground. The attacker spun toward the injured man.

Vash tried to lift his prosthetic arm, but the other brought his boot down on his wrist. For the first time in a year, Vash missed his angel arm magnum. "Don't move."

His eyes widened.

At the same time, the other man saw Vash's face. Meryl could see his eyes widen as well. She realized that they had only just noticed that their faces were identical. She could see a flood on questions pouring through his psyche, and she realized at that moment that the man wasn't who she thought he was. It wasn't Knives. This was someone else, entirely different, yet so very familiar.

Vash was gazing into his own eyes.

"How…how is this possible?" Vash stammered. "It can't be."

Stryker hesitated, as if trying to sort out the unexpected. He glanced over to the woman, no doubt lost. She wondered what was going on. Vash obviously didn't know who he was. Nor did the stranger standing over him.

"Vash the Stampede?" he said after a time.

The silence was all the confirmation he needed.

He gave Meryl a look out of the corner of his eye. "I have no beef with you, woman. Get outta here." He lifted his gun—a black Colt 8-shooter, Vash identified without hesitation—and calmly rested it between Vash's eyes. At the same time, he turned his attention to the legendary outlaw. "I don't have any clue who you are, but that doesn't matter. You've hurt too many people. I can't let you hurt anyone else."

Meryl saw the truth behind the situation. She could tell instantly by the sound of his voice that he was seeking to end a nightmare, a nightmare that she already knew didn't truly exist. People feared Vash the Stampede, and this was a man who was trying to put an end to that fear.

She saw the look on Vash's face, heard the confidence in his voice. "I've made my peace with God," he said quietly. "If you pull the trigger, I go with a clear conscience."

"How can you possibly say that after all you've done? You bastard…"

"You're wrong!" Meryl fought herself into a sitting position, grabbing at the pain in her arm. He shot a look to her. She saw his anger at her interruption, but she didn't care. She did the only thing she could think to do at them moment. She couldn't leave, she couldn't fight. The only thing that came to her was that she was Meryl, and that was all she would ever be. It was her best defense, Vash's only defense. "Vash has never intentionally hurt anyone! He's always defended them!"

Stryker glared at her through the corner of his eye, never taking his pistol from Vash's forehead. He didn't move; Vash complied by staying perfectly still. The man in black had the upper hand, and they all knew it.

"My mind tells me to squeeze the trigger, to end the suffering of the people. But my heart has questions of its own. It wants to know how the hell I just happen to look like the most notorious outlaw in the history of this land." He loosened the pressure of the gun against Vash's flesh, but he didn't lower it. Vash never moved. "I should drop you where you sit. End it at that."

"I can't tell you either way."

"I know."

Vash drew a deep breath, taking a moment to look over the man standing over him. _I don't believe it. Except for the hair, he looks exactly like me. Same height, build. It…it's perfect._

"I have the same questions," he admitted, refusing to tremble. He wondered how Knives had done it. He knew why it was done, but that wasn't enough.

Meryl closed her eyes for a moment, letting the pain pass over here. The blood seeped through the bandage Milly had so carefully wrapped, but she paid no attention to it.

Instead she opened her eyes and tossed a worried look at Vash, then up to the man standing over him. She wanted to find some way to make him believe that Vash was not the man they said he was, that the title of Humanoid Typhoon was no more than propaganda, stirred up with the intention of causing Vash pain.

It seemed her whole world was coming down around her, and there was nothing she could do about it. Vash was in the hands of an enigma, one that shared his very appearance and perhaps his skills as well.

The Vash duplicate stared at her, and then closed his eyes. "If I am wrong, Lord, then I am sorry. Forgive me this deed which I am forced to commit."

He reapplied the pressure to the gun between Vash's eyes.

"No you don't!"

The compression of Milly's stun gun echoed her shout.

The stun-rod slammed into the Vash duplicate and rammed him into a nearby wall, pinning him down. Milly raced over to Meryl, falling to a knee to help her up. She stared at the man she had downed, her expression one of utter shock.

"M...Meryl?"

She nodded. "I'm okay, I think."

"Who is that?" Her voice was barely audible. "What's going on?"

Meryl sighed, giving the big girl's shoulder a squeeze. She closed her eyes, relieved to see her friend. She had been so worried about her. She was still worried about Vash. She peered over to him. He still knelt in the corridor, eyes wide. "We should get out of here before he comes to."

Vash shot a look to her. Then, gingerly, the Humanoid Typhoon rose to his feet and limped over to his downed duplicate. He leaned over the man, a hand on the wall to support his weight. Sure enough, he hadn't been hallucinating. The man was a spitting image of himself, no doubt a clone. Knives was the only culprit that came to mind.

He would have had plenty of opportunity. During the July incident, over twenty-four years ago, Vash had lost his arm. Knives had taken it and had it surgically attached to Legato Bluesummers, making Legato essentially part plant and giving him special, telepathic powers. Vash couldn't put it past his brother to taking a blood sample and using it to create a clone. That would have been the easiest time, probably the most logical, but there had been various situations that would have sufficed.

He glanced to the ground, catching sight of the black 8-shooter. He kicked the sidearm away with his right foot.

"So, my friend, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" He was talking to an unconscious duplicate of himself, but that didn't matter. He leaned down and grabbed the clone's left sleeve, pulling it up and away from his arm.

Vash narrowed his eyes. Though the familiar-faced stranger matched him in almost every way, he still had one thing that Vash did not. He still had his flesh and blood left arm. There was no prosthetic with a hidden machine-gun inside. That made this a hell of a lot easier. The question was, how old? Assuming he was created following the July incident, he would have to be somewhere between ten and twenty-four, considering he and Knives had both been done physically growing by the age of ten.

He glanced to his friends. "I think we're okay. I just…we can't leave him here. He'll only come after us. Anyway, I have to know who he is."

Meryl couldn't believe it. She stared at him, trying to convince herself he hadn't gone mad. "Vash, I understand why you want to know more about this man, but he tried to kill you. If he's anything like you…" She clenched her eyes, shaking the thought away. "If he's anything like you, he'll try it again. Without hesitation."

She looked to the stranger, the man who looked so much like the one she loved. It was a terrifying thought, to think that someone could easily assume his place in this world. The personality would be differing, but Vash was so unpredictable that nearly everyone on this treacherous world would probably look past it. A few years ago, she would have made the very same mistake.

She shook the thought away and looked up from the duplicate to the man standing over him. "Vash, the world needs you. They may not understand, but they do. _I_ need you. You have to live, don't you understand? We can't take this chance."

She shot a look to Milly. It was nothing short of a miracle that the big girl had shown up at all, especially in Vash's moment of need. He had been a dead man, and he had resigned himself to that fate. She took her friend's arm. "You agree with me, don't you?" she whispered, fear laced in her voice. She didn't want to think about it, couldn't think about it. She knew she was right, but she also knew there would be no swaying Vash from this situation. She knew he had to know, but she didn't think the information was worth risking his life over.

She refused to just sit here and wait for the unconscious man to come to and have another chance to take Vash away from her.

Hesitantly, Milly slid closer to Vash, peering down to the man beneath him. It bothered her that he didn't respond to Meryl right away. It bothered her because of a man she had known that lived a life bound by obligation to darkness, only to have him snatched away when she had discovered his true nature. It bothered her because Vash showed the same determination in his eyes now that she had seen on the face of Wolfwood when he had battled his own personal demons over a year ago. Gently, Milly took his arm.

"She's right, Mr. Vash," she whispered. "I don't wanna see what that man can do to you. If he shares more than your looks, we could be in real trouble."

"We'll be all right. Trust me."

Vash went to a knee and pushed the stun-rod off of his counterpart, laying him on his back. He gathered all the firepower lying around and limped with in to lean against the opposite wall.

"When he comes to, we'll ask him a few questions. If you don't want to be here, go find a place to wait for me. I promise you, this man will not kill me."

He glanced to Meryl, showing her the determination in his eyes.

"Trust me."

If it wasn't for the wound in his leg, Meryl might have hit him. She wanted to knock some sense in him, but one look from him quelled all thoughts of arguing further. She sighed and shook her head. "I refuse to sit by and watch you get yourself killed, but I can't leave you alone with him. Not with that hole in your leg." She walked slowly toward him. "So let Milly and I wrap it for you. Then we'll go off to talk. We won't be far. I refuse to leave you alone with him."

Vash nodded slowly. "Okay, fine. But I need to be able to see him." He held the 8-shooter, after checking to see that it was fully loaded, at the ready, peeking back and forth from the girls to his look-alike. He was a little worried about having them here, but he didn't expect the man lying on the floor would be much of a threat now.

He'd instilled a little doubt now, so maybe the guy would be willing to ask questions of his own.

_The best way to learn about someone is through conversation_, Rem used to say.

Slinging her stun gun over her shoulder, Milly went over and took a seat next to Vash, gazing to his bloodied leg. She reached down to work on the injury. "I'm not leaving him. If he's going to be waiting here, I am too."

Vash winced. Milly was one of the gentler souls on all of Gunsmoke, but she didn't always have the gentlest of hands. "Geesh Milly! Could ya be a little gentler? That really hurt!"

Milly simply smiled.


	20. Chapter Seventeen

SEVENTEEN: the sound of thunder

At that moment, Vash's eyes went to the man lying across from him. The man's eyes had slid open, and now he groaned softly. Vash slowly lifted the man's gun so he could see it aimed toward him.

"Where am I?" he murmured. He tried to look about, and caught sight of Vash and the girls. "Man…you're good. How…"

He closed his eyes and sighed.

He wasn't dead, and now doubt he was surprised by that. But he had been taken down, and he ached furiously from whatever had hit him. He'd lost concentration and it had cost him.

"Why didn't you kill me?" he whispered, unmoving.

Meryl sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned against the cool metal of the corridor and slid down to sit next to Vash. "No matter what wrongs have been done, no one ever has the right to take the life of another."

He looked to her, setting his eyes on her slender form.

"If he had really been as bad as you thought, do you really think he would let you live?" _Not my Vash,_ she thought. _He could never be so cold and heartless. Not like so many others I've met over the years._ "You have to understand, Vash is not like the man that everyone believes him to be."

The man shot a look to Vash, and the woman working on his leg. His own weapon was still trained on him. There wasn't anything he could do. This was Vash the Stampede, afterall. He probably wouldn't have much of a chance if he decided to act.

Instead, he wet his lips, pondered his words, and asked his question.

"How can you prove to me that he's not the man everyone says he is?"

"I've fired a weapon with intent to kill once times in my life, and believe me, it hurt like hell." He leaned back, actually closing his eyes as Milly worked on his leg. He grimaced in pain. "I don't know exactly who you are or where you came from, but I think it's pretty obvious that we share a common bond. What that is, I don't know just yet, but I have a pretty good idea. So you see, I couldn't kill you, but not because of what you are. I couldn't kill you because I don't kill."

He sighed heavily, wincing, actually letting the guns lower. The pain was a little more than he had anticipated.

"If you couldn't tell, it hurts him to kill anything," Meryl whispered. "You might not be able to see that, but I've seen it firsthand because I've been with him for several years now." She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. She had an expressionless look on her face, simply staring across the corridor at him, almost as if she was sharing the pain of the man beside her. "If he was truly as bad as you say, would we be here right now, talking to you? Would you even be alive? Think about it."

The man lay back and closed his eyes.

"Something doesn't quite add up, does it," she said coldly.

Vash sighed and touched her arm, telling her without words to back off. "If you want to know about me, then you have to promise you won't try to harm me or my friends. I'll tell you everything I can. The only thing I ask in return is you tell me what you know." He smiled a little, wincing once more as Milly ripped a bloody shell from his calf. "Damn, that hurts," he hissed through tears.

"It'd gotta be done, Mr. Vash!" she said, actually smiling.

Meryl winced. She wanted nothing more then to be at the side of the man she loved, holding his hand while Milly treated his wound. She knew how Milly could be, but at least the girl had a little knowledge of the nursing field. Growing up in such a large family, you had to be somewhat medically inclined.

"Well, at least if we're here you can't do any damage," the man said, sighing heavily. He pushed himself up to a sitting position against the wall across from them. He brushed a few strands of hair that had fallen into his face. What a tangled mess. "So, whaddaya want to know? As if I could tell you anything."

"Just tell me this," Vash whispered, staring at the ground. "Do you remember your childhood?"

All eyes turned up to him, surprised by his question.

"My childhood? The first thing I remember about my life is waking up in a bed seven years ago," he admitted quietly, peering at Vash with a confused look on his face. "The people who took care of me said I wandered in from the desert, but I don't remember a thing about my past before that day." He closed his eyes, and then gave Vash a cold stare. "They were murdered before my eyes three years ago."

"Oh! That's so sad," Milly said. Tears dribbled down her face for him, tears that he couldn't comprehend. She didn't care. She was just like Vash. She had emotion to spare for everyone on this entire, miserable little world. "I'm terribly sorry."

The man eyed her. _Was I wrong? These people don't seem like mass-murderers, like people who could topple an entire city. They don't seem dangerous at all._

"Mr. Vash has had a rough life too. I bet you have a lot in common if you just take the time to talk about it."

He closed his eyes, considering her worlds. "I don't think you could kill anyone," he said finally. "I…if you were going to kill me, you would've done it already. While I was out cold."

Vash clung to Meryl's hand as though death itself were trying to pry her away. He didn't want to leave her. He longed to be with her until the end of time.

"You want to know where you came from? If you trust me, I can reconnect you to your past." Vash saw curiosity in the eyes of the man across from him. "I'm not the man they make me out to be. Give me a chance to show you who I am, and I will show you who you are as well. At least as best as I can."

He nodded. "All right. You win. We'll call a truce here and now. I'll cooperate, so long as you can tell me who I am."

Meryl let out a sigh of relief as the feeling of danger slipped a little from her thoughts. It was still there, but it was less. Her heart still pounded, almost painfully, against her chest. Emotionally drained from the situation, she leaned into Vash, reassuring him with her touch that she was here, that she would always be here.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir," Milly said gently, "what is your name?"

"Stryker," he replied, and after a moment, he reconsidered. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Sean Ryker."

"It's so sad you don't remember your childhood," Meryl whispered, showing obvious sympathy despite her mistrust. She never took her eyes from him, holding his gaze with her own. "What do you remember?"

"I remember having a good life with an elderly couple until they were gunning down by a criminal. I've gone around taking out the same kind of bastards that killed them ever since." He closed his eyes. "I went after a lot of them. As many as I could get a clean shot at. And that was a lot. It's what led me here, to get Vash the Stampede."

"I'm glad you didn't succeed," Meryl murmured, giving Vash's hand a gentle squeeze. She watched the man in black, chills rushing up her spine. Seeing him lying there, she realized just how easy it would be to confuse the two. "This man means a lot to me. I don't know if I could have ever survived without him."

Vash gave Meryl a gentle kiss atop her head. His breath quickened ever so slightly as he breathed in her scent. Then he sat up a little, focusing his thoughts on Stryker.

"No one sent you?"

"No, of course not."

It was a little disturbing. Vash wondered if there were others like him out there, wandering the desert. He was worried, for he had already developed a theory, and it involved the geo-plant here within this shuttle. Knives had known about this shuttle from the beginning, as had Vash. Knives had probably sent Stryker out seven years ago, which explained why he had no memory of his life prior to that day he'd walked out of the desert and into the lives of the old couple he'd referred to. Had Stryker been the first? Or the last? There was just no telling how many others were really out there, if any.

"It must have been very hard," he said quietly. "Watching those you care for most losing their lives, right before your very eyes."

He knew the truth of this more than he let on.

"It's not easy losing the ones you care for at all," Meryl agreed. "We can relate, at least in that way." She closed her eyes, still trying to regain some of her composure. On the outside, she was still cool, collected Meryl, but on the inside she was an emotional wreck. Everything from the recent dramatic events to the simple kiss from Vash, moments ago, had her heart and mind in a jumble.

Milly, finished with Vash's leg, slumped over and gazed to the floor, listening to the conversation in silenced. Her thoughts drifted to Wolfwood as Meryl spoke, and she gave a soft cry of pain. She had told him that he needed his strength, to eat sandwiches she and Meryl had made for him the night before he died.

_Would you…eat them with me?_

Of course, she couldn't refuse. She loved to eat, and eating with Wolfwood had made her very happy.

"Eating" had entailed a little more than talking and nibbling on pastrami and mayonnaise on rye. "Eating" had turned into an all night affair, when the touch of the priest had been no less than being graced by the hands of an angel. It had been the most wonderful, blessed event in her life. She had cherished every moment of that blissful night, despite her uncertainty at his gentle hands as he had helped to slip her clothes from her trembling body.

Damn right, those had been the best sandwiches she had ever eaten.

Tears finally burst free, followed immediately by a low, mournful wail.

Meryl let go of Vash's hand and slipped to the big girl's side. She didn't have to ask what had caused the sudden sorrow in Milly's heart. The answer was all too obvious. Wolfwood had been a good friend, but Meryl had been no where near as close to him as Milly had been. She could only imagine the extent of the pain that _she_ felt from his death, a pain Meryl could detect in her friend in most anything she did.

She wrapped her arms around Milly, whispering soft words that she doubted would help. All she could do was hold the big girl close and be there when she was most needed. "I'm here, Milly," she whispered. It was all she needed to say.

She cast a mournful glance to Vash before shutting her eyes, a silent tear slowly trickling down her cheek.

Stryker watched it all in silence, amazed by the humanity in everything the girls did. The big one, Milly, cried for a loss he knew nothing about, and the tiny, controlled one, revealed her compassion with delicate grace. The big girl crushed her so tightly into her enormous embrace, it was a wonder she could even breathe.

These were people, and people deserved the benefit of the doubt. He could see no hostilities in them at all, though he'd seen a lot of sick scum who fingered Vash to be the most dangerous man they'd ever seen.

_This_ man? The man who wouldn't even kill to defend his _life?_

Had the shoes been turned, he would have killed Vash in a heartbeat. Who was the true killer among these people, because this couldn't possibly be the dangerous Humanoid Typhoon he'd heard so much about.

"I didn't realize. I came here looking for a bloodthirsty brute. Sounds to me like I was looking in the wrong place."

"I'm sorry you came so far for nothing," Milly mumbled into Meryl's hair.

"But it doesn't have to be for nothing," Vash countered. "I've got something that you need to see, Sean. It might even be enough to show you who you are and where you come from." He drew a deep breath, shooting a look at the girls. "You see, the truth is you and I don't exactly belong to the human race."

----------

He ran as fast as his two legs would carry him, stumbling over his own two feet as well as the loose sand or the desert floor. He couldn't believe how _fast_ the man had been. It was amazing, and utterly frightening. However, the scariest thing had been the fact that the man hadn't even been accurate. He hadn't been anything more than a trigger-happy lunatic, hell-bent on doing nothing less then filling the air with lead.

For an ex-con and a bounty hunter who'd been on the man's trail for so long, he'd expected far more of a fight than what he'd gotten. Especially not such a piss-poor defensive. He'd known Vash was crazy—after all, the people he'd talked to over the years had insisted that the Humanoid Typhoon was no more than a lucky sonuva bitch without a single lick of sense in his tiny, insignificant brain.

Jon had quickly learned that his sources were accurate, but he hadn't expected it to be so…scary.

He stumbled onward as the afternoon sun pelted down on him with its searing heat. Off in the distant, he began to see the waves of hallucination. He was certain he could see a black dot on the horizon, and thought it might be a car. He went onward, expectantly, eager to escape the heat.

He went on for what seemed to be forever. The heat increased, as did the size of the spot in the desert.

He began to pick up speed when he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his face.

The bounty hunter fought to regain his footing, but he just couldn't. Soon, the sound of a vehicle approached. He pushed himself up a little, peering at a familiar, brown jeep. He began to shudder, a thin smile spreading across his lips. He heard a car door open and a pair of boots hit the ground. Somebody strolled along to the front of the vehicle.

_Oh, thank God. They've come for me._

He heard something else a moment later, the metallic sound of a pistol's chamber sliding shut. The boots came to a stop two paces away. A shadow lingered over him. A shadow, and a familiar snicker. Jon tried to push himself up, but he was far too weak. Why was he so weak? Only an hour ago he had been at the top of his game.

_Oh God, protect me._

He didn't know exactly why he was asking for the Almighty's help now. He hadn't asked for anything before, and damn sure he hadn't offered it, either. His time was running thin, and he had come to realize it. No wonder he had survived Vash the Stampede. His punishment was that he had been giving a chance at survival, only to have it snatched away from him.

Clenching his fist, Jon whispered through chapped lips. "I don't wanna die."

A voice fell upon him, a thick, raspy voice he knew all too well. "Shoulda finished the job, then, Mr. Thomas."

Jon clenched his eyes shut. Unmoving, he counted the seconds.

One… Two…

There was the sound of thunder.

----------

Meryl listened half-heartedly as Vash revealed the truth of his existence to Stryker. Her concerns focused on the girl in her arms who cried as if she would never stop. Meryl felt her pain, wished she could somehow take some of it on herself and spare Milly some of what she was feeling. She would give nearly anything to make Milly happy again. In her eyes, anything less than seeing light in the big girl's eyes seemed no less than a sin.

Meryl had realized something there on that cold metal floor as she held Milly close. She had realized that Wolfwood's death had opened Milly up to all of the pain that the world held in it. What happened back then had crushed the girl who had seen joy in life like no one else she had ever known. Not even Vash. She wished more than anything in the world that she could take back everything that had happened and bring back the lost happiness that had once shown like fire in Milly's innocent eyes.

It was an impossible dream. Milly could never really go back to the way she used to be and it broke Meryl's heart in so many places. The words shared between Vash and Stryker were lost to her beneath the violent, heartfelt sobs of a woman who lost true love.

Of course, Milly would never cry forever. She wasn't that kind of girl. She expected herself to show the world that joy could never truly be lost, and she couldn't do that while she was lying on a rock-hard, ice-cold metal floor, shedding an ocean of tears. She turned it all off like a water faucet. Suddenly, those heavy, throaty sobs vanished and her tears faded away. She dried her eyes with the sleeve of her overcoat and sat back on her heels, sniffling a little and she smiled big for her friend.

Meryl sighed softly and smiled back. For Milly, a forced smile glowed as though the gates of Heaven had been opened up inside her, its powerful light glistening in her eyes. At first, Meryl was surprised at the sudden change. Then again, she supposed nothing that Milly did ever really surprised her anymore. She was happy that her tears had stopped and that she was smiling again. She touched her friend's shoulder in a way that told her that she would always be there for her, the way Milly had always been there for her, time and time again.

----------

Despite the ridiculous sound of the tale, it wouldn't have taken twisting his arm for Stryker to accept the truth of it. The fact remained that he had skills unmatched by any he had ever known, save the man next to him, the man who mirrored him in every way. Well, in most ways, if truth be told.

So he had accepted the tale for truth without question.

Especially since Vash insisted that the proof was readily available. The proof, he said, lay in the geo-plant of this very shuttle. He had never actually seen a geo-plant before, but Vash offered to take him to it, so he agreed.

Now they stood before the plant, gazing upon the dozens of infant plant spawn still tied to the lifeline of the system. His arms hung limply at his side as he gazed into the hazy glass. It had taken him quite some time to agree to enter the plant chamber; after all, he had been told ages ago that the geo-plants emitted a radiation deadly to humans. Vash had finally convinced him that he wasn't truly human, and that they could both enter without the fear of death haunting them.

"Hey there," Vash told the plant in his gentlest voice. "It's me again."

The Humanoid Typhoon smiled to the creature that appeared in the dissipating haze. Stryker simply gawked up at the pale-skinned beast within the giant bulb.

"My God," he murmured. The thing turned to him, watching him. Soon, a soothing, song filtered into his brain, a song he knew only he and Vash could hear. "Amazing. It's as if…as if I've known this place all along."

Vash smiled. "I know. It's a powerful thing, isn't it?" He closed his eyes and soaked in the warmth of the great plant. The heat of it was intoxicating, flowing through him with great power. Stryker felt it too, the likes of which he had never experienced. He felt young again, as though the strength of life had broken through and filled his soul. He didn't ever want to leave. He closed his eyes and spread out his arms, soaking it all it.

"My first memory in life is floating in a sweltering light, far brighter than any you have ever seen," Vash said quietly. "I know now that I was within a geo-plant, growing towards a life amongst the humans with my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Knives."

"I see."

Vash nodded. It was clear that whoever Stryker truly was, he had never known Knives. Quietly, he revealed the past, as he had revealed it to Milly over a year ago. He had not told the girl earlier in their friendship because he had been protecting them. There was no need to protect Stryker. He served his duplicate better by being truthful.

And Stryker held to every world Vash had to say. He clung to him like an eager child, drawing upon an elder's story. Could it possibly be? Was he more than the mere human he had always believed himself to be? Were all these amazing abilities no more than his own, true nature, a nature less human than he could have possibly dreamed?

He stood there, gazing with sorrow the geo-plant. "She's so sad."

"She's a slave," Vash whispered.

Stryker shot him a look. "What?"

"They're keeping her like this. These plant spawn…their growth isn't natural. Somebody seeded her."

His duplicate shuddered at the thought. "But who could do such a thing?"

Vash nodded in agreement. "It's only been four months, so it wasn't Knives."

"Then who?"

Vash shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted sorrowfully. "I honestly don't know."


	21. Chapter Eighteen

EIGHTEEN: secret longing

Meryl couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy. She couldn't really explain it, but it was there, nagging at the back of her heart like some annoying child pointing out here every flaw, laughing at her for every mistake she made. All she knew was that it had taken over, a secret longing to be a part of something in which she really had no role. Vash and Stryker shared a connection similar to a secret amongst friends, amongst brothers and family, even if Stryker didn't truly understand just yet.

In a way, Meryl was glad that Vash had found someone he could truly relate to, someone he could speak to about things she didn't understand. If things worked out, Vash might even have someone that he could confide in and discuss things that only the two could share. At the same time, Meryl could not help but feel left out. Who Vash was, his past, present, and future…they were all important aspects of self, things that should be shared with a lover, yet things she would never deserve to know, no matter who she was. It was a thought that threatened to shatter so many of the hopes and dreams she had placed on the future she wasn't sure would ever exist.

She let off a short, silent laugh. She was already planning a future with Vash. Why did these thoughts come to her now, just after she had made such an important proclamation?

She knew the answer to that. Stryker. Stryker and the other man who had attacked them were the reason. She had looked on in fear as his life had been threatened before her very eyes. She had come to understand that she couldn't truly protect him from everything that they might face together. Besides, he wouldn't want her to try. It would only put her into danger, a danger he preferred to face alone. She grunted at that, just another thing to add to an already guilty conscience.

The pain she had seen etched in his face back there had not been the pain from the wound in his leg. It had been the pain of the innocent lives that had been lost because of him. She knew that he had never had a choice in the matter, but Vash believed there was always a way to save everyone, no matter how impossible the situation. There was always a way, and nobody should ever have to die needlessly.

How her heart ached for him. How she wished so greatly that she could erase all of it, but it wasn't possible and she knew it. She secretly doubted Vash would ever want to erase all that had happened over the years. They served as a constant reminder to what he stood for and to what he stood against.

Thinking now, raising her head to finally gaze to the girl she had held in her arms only a few minutes ago, she began to understand how painful a love lost must feel. In the brief moments before Milly had arrived on the scene upon Stryker's emergence, she had nearly tasted the same pain for herself.

At this point, this moment, as Meryl was left in the silence of the near-empty corridor, she realized that she had more to doubt then her own shortcomings.

Meryl began to doubt everything.

Next to her, Milly stirred. "I really hate this," she murmured.

Meryl shot a look to the big girl. Her eyes were still moist with unshed tears, though she didn't cry now, though she appeared to be on the verge. Hugging herself tightly, she peered at Meryl. She looked like a girl torn between a multitude of emotions, when her heart was torn between her own life and the pains of others. Mostly, it was because every time she longed to have her own private moments with people she cared for, something else would take pause in her path and throw the whole thing out of whack. Something like the unexpected death of Nicholas D. Wolfwood.

"Are we ever gonna get any good news? Now Vash's own brother made a clone of him. Maybe more. I'm so scared, Meryl…"

Meryl smiled sadly, seeing those unshed tears as the bore into her soul. She couldn't change the past, any more than she could bring the priest back into Milly's loving, lonely arms. But maybe, just maybe, she could bring a real smile back to her depressed, thought lovely, features.

"I have some news for you," she said quietly. "Just might cheer you up."

"Oh?" Milly tried to smile, but failed miserably.

"I followed your advice and kept my promise. I told Vash how I feel." Milly's smile came more freely now. "You were right about him. He does care for me, and I have you to thank, Milly. Without you pushing me, I never would have told him."

_And I would have regretted it._ She didn't say as much out loud; she feared the admission would cause the girl more pain and tears and she didn't really care to do that to her friend.

"Oh Meryl!" She glowed happily and wrapped her friend up in a big hug.

Meryl smiled and went on about that one perfect moment they had shared outside, and how she had lost her heart and soul in that same fleeting moment. She went on to tell her about the first shot that had been fired, how she had been so afraid. She admitted her reluctance to leave Vash, and his insistence to protect herself.

She described how her heart had stopped when shots rang out as she waited alone in a dark corridor, how she had never run so fast in her life, how her heart had shattered when she saw that he was hurt. How she had tried to help him to safety.

She explained how weak she had felt as her derringer had been knocked from her grasp and how frightened she had been when she was pulled into the hold of another that had looked so much like the man she had been protecting, the man she loved.

It had been a horrible thing, and she let Milly know how horrible it had all been. She felt so weak, so defenseless, and she described it all without fail. Doubt and worries swirled in her mind, evident in her dew-dropped eyes. She looked ready to cry herself.

And there, with only the comfort of the cold silence and the warmth of her friend's caring gaze, she did. She cried for Milly's loss, she cried for Wolfwood's tragic yet inevitable fate. She cried for Vash, and most importantly, she cried for herself.

Milly watched on, tears glistening in her eyes. They fell now, but they were happy tears with a smile that glowed like angel's wings. She felt her friend's pain, and despite it all, nothing could hold the joy she felt for this connection in Meryl's heart.

"I'm sorry Meryl," she murmured, "but you shouldn't ache for us now. You should be proud to be who you are. You should be proud of us all. Don't cry for us. Your smile is too pretty to let all those dumb tears weigh it down."

Meryl nodded a little, drying her eyes.

"And don't you ever let him go! If you do, I'll never forgive you!" She grinned. "And I'm going to tell him the same thing, you got that?"

Meryl lifted her eyes. Milly's tone sounded as though it could be attached to a death threat, and the little woman had to laugh at that. As she did, she dried her eyes and let her heart rise a little with each tremendous thump. She smiled up at Milly, thinking of the love she felt in her heart for Vash the Stampede. It was a smile that spoke volumes.

"Yes, ma'am."

Milly grinned. Meryl grinned back.

Things were looking up already.

"Milly, you've always been there for me, when I needed you. Thank you."

She glowed. "You don't have to tell me that, Meryl. I know it with all my heart and I always will because you have always been there for me. Without you, I don't know what I'd being doing right now, but I'm pretty sure life would be pretty darn boring."

Meryl's grin widened.

"Milly?"

"Yes, Meryl?"

"I'm hungry."

"Me too. Let's find the kitchen!"

----------

He led Stryker back down the hallway, more than a little saddened by what he already knew he would have to do. His heart ached at the understanding. It made him feel less human than ever before.

Vash the Stampede had decided he would have to take lives. Over a hundred flames of life before they were even born, wiped from existence, before they could ever turn into an army of hatred and spread like wildfire across the planet, or perhaps something less dangerous. Fact was, he didn't know the truth for their existence. He only knew he couldn't let them exist. There was too much at stake.

It was an unwanted task. His heart ached that somehow they would all turn out to be like him, but the risk was too great that they could wind up being more like Knives. They were clones, they had to be, so they were probably preprogrammed to hate. The ability for compassion was likely taken from them in the course of development. Knives would have seen to it if he'd been in charge. He had the ability and the blood sample. All he needed was the technology.

He was going to have to have a talk with his brother. That meant leaving the girls alone again. He couldn't risk taking them to that maniac. Meryl would be pissed, but he would be leaving them with the truth of it. They couldn't go. Maybe Stryker could be convinced to stay behind and protect them. It might convince them to wait for him.

Meryl would never be easy to convince.

Vash sighed. This was bound to be a terribly long day.

----------

Milly drug Meryl into another room, a big white room lined with counters, with what appeared to be an oven, fridge, and a sink. A single rectangular table and six chairs sat in the center of the room. Immediately the big girl started to shuffle about the place as Meryl slid into one of the chairs, gazing about. She was a little fearful, though she couldn't place exactly why. Maybe it was because she felt like an intruder here, barging in on someone else's space, someone who had been gone for a very long time.

After a time, Milly pulled out a dozen or so white packets, frowning at the labels that each possessed. "I think these are food." She hesitated, inspecting one, and tossed the thing over to her friend. They weren't big, only about the size of a general store chocolate bar, but the label read "Grain Rations 473.62527."

Meryl inspected it for a brief moment, trying to make sense of the numbers. She didn't know if they were some sort of expiration date, though she knew each package was at least 130 years old. But, it did appear to be food, and beggars couldn't afford to be choosers. "I think you're right. Might as well grab what we can. If Sean's appetite is anything like Vash's, we're in big trouble." She joined Meryl's side and peered into the cabinet where the things waited. She was amazed how full the thing was, as if the place had only just been stocked and left alone.

_Two Vashes._ As much as she tried to separate the two of them in her head, on though kept them together. She had a terrible feeling in her gut. Something was wrong and she knew it was rapidly approaching in the form of Vash the Stampede. When Meryl had a feeling, she was typically right on the button.

In that moment, they stepped into the kitchen. Vash and Sean stood in the doorway. When the man she loved turned his gaze to her, he was frowning. He was a little surprised—he hadn't expected to find the girls here—but he wasn't disappointed.

"I see you found the food rations," he said, his frown turning into that fake smile Meryl could see straight through. He trodded over to her and took the package from her hand. "This is wheat germ. Real crap. I'll make you something else."

He headed over to the cabinet where Milly was still standing, holding an armload of rations. "One stick makes enough to feed a crew of eight," he commented, picking one out. "They're all soups. Nothing solid. I hope you like tomato soup." He tossed the stick aside. "These things last forever. Problem is, we need water. I don't think we have any."

Meryl watched him, knowing deep inside exactly what was going through his mind. He was thinking of Knives. It ate at her. She wouldn't mention it now, not here. Not with Milly around when it would probably only cause more heartache and tears.

"I have water," Stryker announced. "Two ten gallon containers."

He glanced to the girls, not moving from the doorway. He was still a little uneasy around these people. He didn't know who the hell they were, after all. Well, not that it really bothered him. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched the three. They seemed harmless. His few moments with Vash in the room with the geo-plant had revealed how gentle-natured the so-called Humanoid Typhoon really was. Stryker knew, at least, that Vash the Stampede was not the man those rumors made him out to be.

Meryl sighed and walked over to the sink. "Maybe the place isn't dried up yet," she said, and pressed down on the knob. Her eyes widened as water poured free of the spout. She shot a sly look to Vash.

He grinned, grabbing a saucepan from the counter and filled it half full. "That'll do. Milly, would you fill the canteens?"

As the big girl did what she was told, Vash tore open the package and dropped about half of the red lump into water. He glanced to Meryl, his thought spinning in his head. He watched her with an apology in his eyes, trying to tell her without words that he would very soon be forced to break his promise. At least for awhile. Meryl wasn't the best at reading eyes, especially his, but he knew without a doubt she'd understand this.

He felt them in his heart, and could tell by the look on her face that she already knew. _I have to go away, Meryl. I have to visit Knives._ But how was he supposed to say that? How could he leave her now? It wasn't hard to speak the truth, but it was nearly impossible to leave her now. Yet, he knew if he did, he would leave his heart right alongside her own.

He shook his head and looked away.

Meryl lowered her eyes, reading the words behind his eyes. They were out in the open, in plain view to her, and the pain pounded relentlessly with each beat of her heart. _You're leaving me…I can see it in your eyes. You're going to leave me._ She didn't say the words that made her mouth feel like cotton. She didn't show the dismay that was so plainly evident for him to see. Instead, she turned and headed for the doorway.

"I lost a derringer," she announced. "In the corridor. I'm gonna go look for it."

It was an excuse, and Vash knew it. But it also wasn't a lie. She had lost her gun out there, somewhere in the corridor. Vash fingered the little weapon that he'd grabbed, for it was in her pocket. He didn't say anything. If she didn't leave, they would never be able to speak in the privacy of the corridor. He let her walk away, for the moment focusing on their dinner.

After a few minutes, he turned to Milly. "Milly, could you take the spoon? I need to talk to Meryl."

She complied with her brilliant smile. He left the two of them, Stryker and Milly, in the strange kitchen and disappeared down the corridor.

----------

Meryl had left to retrieve what she could of her bleeding heart. _No, you can't go! Not when I finally have you back!_ Her heart screamed the words, but she remained silent. But she knew he had to leave, knew that no matter how much she begged and pleaded that he had obligations that she could never understand. Maybe she could follow, but she knew that would be a foolish excursion. He had to find answers to the questions in his heart, questions that had to be answered. He would wave goodbye and then go off to take care of the necessities.

Why was it so hard?

A year ago, she had let him go without question. She had known, though, that back then he would return to her. She couldn't help but grin at the memory now.

_Mr. Vash will come back, won't he?_

_Of course he will, Milly. He wouldn't dare keep a good woman like me waiting._

But he had. She had truly believed he would return, but the truth was he hadn't. Vash had been cornered into obligations that overshadowed Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson, the insurance girls who had hounded him for nearly three years.

This time, he would return. He'd never profess his love and then turn her away.

Numbly, she walked down the dark hall to the area where she'd dropped her gun.

----------

He could hear the soft click of her boots against the metallic floor. It was easy to follow. Meryl was easy to follow.

She'd never be easy to leave behind.

A tear drizzled down his cheek. _Damnit, why does it always have to be this way? Every time I find peace I'm thrust into correlating circumstances that only pull me deeper into the abyss Knives has wrapped around me._ He wiped the tear away and turned down another corridor. There was Meryl, not so very far away. She was still moving, on her way to find her weapon.

Even it he stopped her, he wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to say.

_Don't be a douche, Needle Noggin'! Go for it while you have a chance._

Vash was absolutely certain that Wolfwood was standing right beside him when the remark came, the voice was so clear. He had to smile at the consequences. He realized they were all the consequences he would rather have in his life. They would only make his life more fulfilling.

Without a sound, he moved up to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and spun her around. Meryl felt the wind knocked free of her lungs and found it hard to breath. But it wasn't the action that had left her in such a dangerous position. It was the look in his eyes, the longing and love that settled there as he moved his hands to her face and pulled her to him.

The moment he found her delicate face, he crushed his lips to hers. She was left breathless, her eyes fluttering as she fell limp into his arms, savoring the silent, stolen moment that caused her broken heart to forget its pain.

If only for a moment.

As the tears trickled down her cheeks, the bliss of the moment faded and she pushed away from his embrace to turn. "No, you can't just do that, Vash. You can't expect to say goodbye again and think you can butter me up first." She shook her head and started down the hall again to the space where she had fallen only a couple hours ago.

Her arm still ached from the fall in the skirmish with the sentry drone. She shook her head again and rubbed the bandaged wound, her thoughts drifting a little. She lowered to a knee, searching blindly for it, but it was nowhere to be found. She grunted and leaned against the wall of the corridor as if it would somehow protect her from Vash's gaze.

Knowing any attempt to hide her pain was in vain, she refused to let him see her cry. Not now. She pushed the rears away from her face and leaned her head back, trembling in the quiet of the moment.

_I'm not leaving you, Meryl._

Vash watched her, but couldn't bring himself to lie to her. It would have been so easy to say, but he couldn't do it. The best he could offer her would be the truth, because this was Meryl, the woman he loved. This was a woman he knew he could come back for.

"I have to see him again. I have to face Knives. He's responsible for all this, I can feel it. I have to know what he was planning."

She didn't speak, but she turned to him. For the moment, that was enough.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "If it was ever this difficult in our past, I never knew. It was…inconsiderate of me."

He eyed her, wanting to reach down and take her face in his hands. Instead, he took her hand and pressed something into it, something silver with an ivory handle. One of Meryl's derringers, one of the bullets spent. She realized it was the one she had dropped in the corridor. She didn't recall firing a shot, but she guessed it had been a hectic moment. She wasn't exactly thinking clearly when Vash's duplicate had attacked them.

"But I have to see Knives again, and I can't take you with me. It's just something I have to do. I'm sorry, but you have to understand, he's still dangerous. If I took you with me, I might not be able to protect you. At least he'll listen to me when It's just me."

He turned and started to walk away.

It was enough force Meryl to scramble to her feet. Tears streamed down her face as she called after him. "How can you do that?" she snapped. "How can you simply walk away like that, without looking back? How do you do it, because I sure as hell wish I could understand, wish I could do the same damn thing!"

She took another step toward him, but froze when he looked back. The look in his eyes frightened her. She took a step back.

"If you couldn't stay beside the gift that was given to you then why did you accept it? What was the point because I don't understand. My heart doesn't understand." She stopped there and took a step back.

"I go because I have to," he whispered. "It was a promise I made to Rem."

She felt shrewish and small. She hadn't truly meant any of the things she had just said, but she feared she'd never be able to take it back. She just could never handle situations like this very well. What made it worse was that she had been given a glimpse of a future under the illusion that it could somehow be possible, only to have it all torn from her in one foul swoop.

It wasn't fair.

"On the day I left you and Milly behind, to go face him, I realized that the last thing she ever tried to tell me was to save my brother. To save him from killing people, innocent and guilty alike. I saved him, but it wasn't the way it should have been."

Her eyes widened as she remembered something he had told her, his last lesson for his brother: _Until you realize that there is room in this world for every last one of us, you'll have to understand there will be no room in this world for you._ She came to realize that he still had a promise to keep to Rem. It wasn't that he was trying to break his promise to her. Meryl closed her eyes.

"If I don't go," he said quietly, "we may never know what's going on here, or how Stryker came to be. There're too many questions. Not enough answers. I can't risk having you with me. If I'm going to see him again, I may not be able to protect you."

Meryl stared to the ground, barely hearing the last of his words. She knew suddenly that she was being selfish. It wasn't about her, it was never about her, yet she was making it out to seem like she was the victim. Maybe she was one, but so was Vash. And at the moment, Vash was the only one who could do something about it.

"Go. Just…go." Her voice was low, defeated. There was nothing else to say or do. Nothing could make him stay.

She longed to have what Milly had once, but she couldn't. Not now, not like this. It wasn't right at this point in time.

Maybe it simply wasn't meant to be.

She blinked her violet eyes, brimming with tears, and turned her gaze to him. He didn't say anything. There were no apologies, no excuses. She could see the sorrow in his eyes just as he heard it in her voice. She knew she couldn't hold him back, that it would be wrong to do so.

----------

_Go. Just…go._

He simply walked away.

Vash the Stampede never intended to return with Meryl to the kitchen. This way, he wouldn't have to talk to Milly or Stryker about his departure. He could just go. It wasn't a long trip at all. He could get there on foot in less than an hour. Still, there was no need to tell Meryl that.

It would be just an hour, and then he could have a discussion with his brother.

Even locked away in an inescapable prison, Knives could torture Vash. It was as if the man knew the precise moments when his brother would be most happy, because each time Vash found pleasure, an ocean of pain soon poured down on him from the heavens. There was no rain, of course. Gunsmoke hadn't seen a drop of it since well before Project SEEDS crash-landed here 131 years ago. But he still felt the downpour of it smashing into him in the form of hot, red droplets that crushed his soul in blood. The blood of the people that had died simply because they were of the human race.

Vash hated Knives for it, but he was still his brother. Vash would always care for the one who used to spend time with him on the Project SEEDS ship Rem had served.

Vash had to go. He had to save Knives.

Again.

----------

It was there, in the solitude of that moment, as she watched him walk away from her, that Meryl truly felt alone. For the first time in her life, Meryl felt the pangs of utter despair overcoming her. It was a frightening and terrible feeling. She sank to her knees, listening as the sounds of his footsteps faded away. She clenched her eyes and buried her face in her hands.

_Vash._ Her heart cried out to him, but she didn't speak. He wouldn't come running back to her just yet. He couldn't come wipe away the tears that fell from her face as he departed. Meryl felt lost, unsure that he would ever return.

_You have to come back, Vash. You have to. We have to see what happens here, what lies out there._ Meryl finally gave in to the overwhelming silence and cried silent tears for the man who would never see them.


	22. Chapter Nineteen

NINETEEN: time to kill

The heat of the midday sun smiled down on the broken land-rover, mocking Spike with its searing touch. Smoke poured from the engine, and the bounty hunter reeled out of the heavy haze, coughing as hard as he had ever coughed in his life.

"Sonuva bitch!" he shouted, kicking at the tire.

"Calm down, lunkhead! Can you fix it?"

The bounty hunter Faye his coldest stare and whipped off his goggles. "Hell yeah, I can fix it! Let me just pull out that gallon of water I keep stuck up my ass for just such an occasion!" he shouted and flung the goggles out into the desert.

Faye grimaced. "Oh…that bad, huh?"

"Jet didn't say a damn thing about the carburetor." Spike moaned and collapsed in the passenger's seat at Faye's side. "The thing's dry as a bone. We can't go anywhere without water. The engine'll just overheat again. Could do a lot of damage."

"So we're stuck here?"

"There's this little thing they used to do before the invention of the wheel, Faye. It's called walking."

"Is it just me or is that the stupidest thing you've ever said?"

"It's either that or we cook out here," Spike retorted. He gestured over to the towering pillars of stone on the horizon. "That's about a mile off. If we can get over to that stretch of land, we can find some shade. Plus, that's where our bounty's hiding."

Faye rose from her seat behind the wheel and leaned against the windshield. "That's it, huh? You think they have water?"

"Maybe. Hard to say." He climbed in next to her and sighed heavily. He grabbed his half-full water bottle and took a swig. Faye eyed him greedily, but for once, she didn't bitch. After all, she'd downed hers early. "Thing is, the longer we stay here the more likely they'll disappear. As long as Ed has them in her sights, we need to get there ASAP."

"Speaking of Ed, maybe it's time we checked in." Faye grabbed the communicator and activated it. She punched in the code and listened as the thing buzzed at her. In a few moments, Ed appeared on the tiny monitor.

"Faye-Faye! What're you doin' sittin' in the desert?"

Faye rolled her eyes. Of _course_ she would have to know. "It's a long story, Ed. Look, we need an update. How's Mr. Sixty Billion?"

"We may have a problem."

Faye rolled her eyes.

"No surprise there," Spike muttered, closing his eyes as he lit a fresh cigarette.

"Seed cameras show there may be two Stampede-persons onboard."

Spike dropped his cigarette in his lap. "Say what?!"

"Hey, give that back!" Faye shouted when he snatched the phone away.

Spike ignored her and glared into the screen. "You better be fucking kidding me Ed! We don't have time for this bullshit!"

"No BS, Spike-person. Cameras show two different persons fitting the description of one Vash the Stampede in various locations of the seeds ship at similar times."

"Oh God," Spike muttered, tossing Faye the phone. In that moment, he noticed the smell of something burning and saw a thin trail of smoke rising from his lap. "Holy shit!" He furiously began to beat out the small embers with his palm. "Sonuva bitch! This shit is really getting on my nerves, Faye!"

"You knew the risks when you signed on." Faye mustered her sweetest smile despite the thick sarcasm in her voice. She looked to Edward. "Look, the land-rover shot craps. We're about a mile from our target. We have to walk and see if we can find water to fill the carburetor." She glanced up to Spike. "I get all that right?"

"Shit. Close enough."

"Yeah," Faye replied. "Got that Ed?"

"Affirmative, Faye-Faye. Can you bring Edward a souvenir?"

Faye grinned. "For sixty billion, we'll see what we can do, kay?"

"Kay-kay! _Bebop_ out!" In that instant, her face vanished.

"Okay, Spike. Let's hoof it."

Neither noticed the large man who stood off in the distance, glaring down to the land-rover. Morgante the Warhead, the last of the Gung-Ho Guns, frowned down at the odd-looking vehicle, to him no more than an odd-looking jeep with smoke bellowing from its engine. It seemed to be a small tank, with a gray, steel frame, taller than most other vehicles he had ever seen. Studying the vehicle, Morgante let the corner of his mouth turn up into a tiny grin.

----------

Milly proudly went about preparing dinner for four. She stared into the pot, thinking that it didn't quite seem enough for two Vash-like individuals, Meryl, and herself, but she thought maybe she could spare a little of her own to see the others had enough. She loved to cook, and like any young woman who loved to cook, the very best compliment one could receive was the silence of happily eating people.

She had a hard time looking the man across the room in the eye. He was so much like the man she and Meryl had followed for so long. She couldn't help but feel uneasy around him. He wasn't Vash, and he never would be.

This was a man willing to kill, and she knew it.

She realized another thing, as his eyes met hers.

He reminded her of another person she had lost a little more than a year ago. Stryker was a man willing to take a life so others might be spared.

There was another she knew who would be willing to make such a sacrifice.

It was exactly what the priest would have done.

Milly froze there as she thought about it. Was this man that much like Wolfwood? It was so difficult to see at this point in time. She tried to think about him once more. It had been so long since she'd felt his touch, she worried that she might not remember the true gentleness behind the man.

Stryker watched her from the doorway, unmoving. He saw the look she gave him but said nothing. His heart went out to these people, as he had come to understand the dangers these two girls were putting themselves into by just being _with_ Vash the Stampede, simply because they believed in him. He respected them for that.

Especially since their views of the Humanoid Typhoon had proved to be true.

After a moment, Milly shook her head and smiled. "I hope you like it hot, Mr. Stryker. I haven't had tomato soup since I was a little girl, and it's very yummy. This kind looks pretty creamy too!"

"Oh, yes. Please, I do like it hot," he said, smiling back.

_She's so calm about all this. I mean, she attacked me to protect her friend, but she's already learning to trust me._

Maybe this trust was something he could use, a way for him to find happiness once more. His foster parents had trusted him, but they were dead now. Since that time, nobody had trusted him again. Until now, apparently.

As he stood there, contemplating the girl across the room, the tiny frame of the other slipped silently through the doorway. He didn't look to her; he knew it was Meryl, and that she was alone. He could sense Vash, though only distantly. He was still trying to understand the strange presence in his brain that had somehow been activated within him upon his union with the man that he was supposedly cloned from.

She had been gone some time, half an hour at least, probably to contemplate the difficulties surround her and her small party. She gave him a tiny smile, though her troubles were evident there on her faintly tearstained cheeks. He thought that Vash must be very special to her.

No one spoke of Vash. Milly's quiet gaze told Meryl that she understood, and that there would be no explanation. She had known the instant her friend walked into the room. It was written all over her face, in her body language, in her solemn silence. There was no doubting what had transpired in the hours since Vash had followed Meryl out into the corridor.

Milly simply smiled. There was no use sulking about it, no matter how much it hurt, so she did the only thing she could do, the only thing she had ever done. She smiled the brightest smile she could muster and gazed lovingly to Meryl.

"I hope you like it hot and creamy!" she said, beaming.

Stryker suddenly turned away, turning crimson at Milly's sudden comment. It just seemed…weird for her to say something like that. He knew she didn't mean it, but it took all his power to suppress the laughter tickling his throat.

Meryl covered her mouth suddenly. She had also started to blush at seeing Stryker's face. She had to smile at the moment of amusement Milly had offered. At least the big girl was trying to keep a sense of humor intact. "You know I do, Milly," she said quietly. "You're the best cook I could ask for. She really is, Sean. You'll like it, guaranteed. That girl could make sand taste great. Isn't that right, Milly?"

Milly simply smiled.

"Vash had something to take care of," Meryl added quietly. She gave Stryker a smile. "Right now you'll just have us to keep you company. I hope you don't mind females too much."

He blushed. "No, of course not. Females are the finer half of the breed. At least, that's what my father used to say." He grinned. "And I think I'll take the soup, please. I've eaten enough dirt for one day."

Milly giggled. "Oh, Mr. Stryker. Meryl knows I'd never feed anyone dirt on the first date," she teased.

Meryl shot her a look. _Careful of your words, Milly. We still don't know very much about this man._ She gave her friend a pale smile and headed over to the table, falling wearily into a chair. At least Milly had the right idea; there was no room for sadness now. Not in this time or place.

"Your father sounds like a very wise man," Milly said.

"Tristan Ryker wasn't my father, but he was there for me when no one else cared," Sean said quietly. "He and his wife were the closest I ever came to having a true family. I don't know if you could ever understand what it was like for me, but I do hope you had the opportunity to share a love with family as I did."

Milly smiled. "Family is very important, don'tcha think, Meryl?"

"Yeah…family."

Milly sighed. "I hope Mr. Vash finds what he's looking for."

"I'm sure he will. You know Vash has never done anything unless he is sure that it is needed to be done. I have every faith that he knows exactly what he's doing."

"Yeah, I guess."

_I just pray he comes back alive with the newfound knowledge,_ she thought, fingering the smooth, black surface of the tabletop. She thought it was weird that she gathered no dirt on her fingertips. With a sigh, she shook her head and looked to Stryker. There was something so very familiar about him, and it was more deeply rooted within him than the fact he looked and sounded so much like Vash. His personality leaned more toward another they had known, that was sure.

"Oh, it's almost done!" Milly announced, stirring Meryl out of her thoughts. The big girl started rummaging around in the cabinet, grinning ear-to-ear, when something black and metal spilled out onto the counter. "Huh? What's this?"

Meryl turned suddenly at the sound of the discovery hitting the counter.

Stryker was there in a split second, scooping the gun to inspect it.

"It's like Mr. Vash's old gun," Milly announced.

He deftly turned the gun over in his hands, slipping his finger against the trigger. He pressed the release, and the chamber fell open. It was empty, as he'd suspected. "I wonder what it's doing here," he said quietly. He closed the weapon, considering it in silence.

Meryl had come to their side the instant the discovery had been made. Her brow furrowed as she inspected the weapon silently, and shook her head. Like Milly had said, other than the fact it was black, and not silver, the gun was identical to the weapon Vash used to carry. For the first time, she realized she hadn't seen it on him since his return.

"I wonder whose it is," she said. _More importantly, who's been here?_ She shook the thought away, and took a mental note to discuss the situation with Vash. She drew a deep breath and glanced to Sean. "You better hold onto it. Right now, I'm famished. Let's eat, all right?"

Milly grinned. "Alright."

Stryker slipped the weapon into his belt and followed Meryl to the table. Meanwhile, Milly found a set of dishes—bowls, silverware, and whatnot—and pour a healthy serving for the three of them. She was starving, and with Vash gone, she wasn't so concerned about there not being enough. Besides, she knew she could always simply make more.

She joined them at the table, setting a bowl and a glass of water before both of them before serving herself and sitting down to eat. "Eat up!" she ordered. "There's plenty to eat as long as we have water." She took her spoon and took the first big bite. "Oh! This is just like the soup Mama used to make! It almost takes me back, ya know?"

Meryl breathed in the smell of it. The girl was right; even the smell was like the soup she remembered that Milly used to make from scratch. Minus the chunks of tomato and celery, of course. She wouldn't eat much of her own bowl, though. She was too worried to be hungry, and after eating only a third of her serving, she slipped the bowl away and watched the others eat in earnest. Soon, the only sound she heard was the soft clicking of spoons against the bowls.

Meryl could live through many things in life, between sickness and health, happiness and sorrow. But one thing that bothered her most was the overwhelming silence that often consumed her soul. Maybe it was the fact that Meryl was unable to analyze then about what everyone was thinking. It was much easier to determine a person's mood when they were talking.

Meryl often felt trapped in her own silence, where she had only her thoughts and emotions, and truth be told Meryl didn't know if she could stand the quiet much longer. Too many things were going on for her to truly get a grip on one of them at a time, so instead she hoped to lose herself in the emotions of her company. Maybe then she could get rid of this awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

What earlier had been eating at her was now passed and replaced heavily with the worries that only someone in love has. "Tell me what it was like, Milly. About your family, I mean." Milly gave her a look a little confused. Meryl shrugged and averted her gaze. "You know. I mean, I've heard the stories but Sean hasn't, and I wouldn't mind hearing them again. We have time to kill, anyway."

Milly simply glowed at the request. She was the type that absolutely cherished family history, and with such a large family waiting for her back home, there was enough family history in just her immediate family to write volumes. She quickly burst out the names of each and every one of them, her big brother and sister, her big big brother and sister, and her big big big brother and sister.

It seemed she could go on forever, but that didn't matter to Milly. She had the lungs of an elephant and she could talk forever. Her heart went on and on as she delivered the story with the love of the little sister inside her. She almost forgot to eat as she as the story rolled along, but eventually hunger got the better of her and she continued between long slurps of soup.

"I really miss them, but when I think about all I have to do with my life, with Meryl and Mr. Vash and all, I realize they would want me to go on with my own life. I belong right here, with my friends."

Meryl had to smile with content as her friend finished her tale. Milly was so animated when she spoke it was like seeming a well written play acted out before your eyes, not to mention the blissful, loving tone of her voice. It was very evident, even to an outsider like Stryker, how deeply the big girl cared for her family.

Finally, Milly picked up her bowl and drained the rest of her soup.

"Wow, that really is tasty. Not quite as good as Mamma's but good enough." She grinned over at Meryl. "Go ahead and finish your supper, Meryl."

"No, thank you. I'm not really hungry."

"Oh, okay." Milly gave her friend a worried look but she didn't press the matter. It occurred to Meryl that her friend never held a grudge against anyone, and looking back on it, she was almost certain that was why she was so attached to the girl. She had made plenty of mistakes in her life and despite the ones she would make in the future, she always knew Milly would be right by her side, through thick and through thin. Because that was just how Milly was.

Stryker watched the girls through this exchange, and he had to smile. He was beginning to understand what it was Vash saw in them. They were truly people, people with hearts set on the straight and narrow path, seeking happiness.

He'd been seeking happiness for a long time, just as they had. No doubt it was difficult to find following a man dubbed the Humanoid Typhoon, but as he came to understand more about why Vash had been given the name, as well as the true history behind the legendary gunman, Stryker came to realize that history was really no different than his own: tragic and lonesome. These girls were the only happiness in his life.

Next to that revelation, Milly's tale of love and hope and family made him understand all the more how much he missed his own family.

The way she told the story was humorous, and at the same time very touching. He began to realize what a lovely young woman she was. Despite her large stature, she was a passionate child at heart. Meryl was a hell of a woman herself, a tiny body that packed a powerful punch. Maybe not with her fist, but he had no doubt this woman could hold her own in any situation.

_Women are a special breed, _his foster father once said. _Be careful what you wish for, 'cause most likely they can give it to you. When they do, it's not what you'd expect._

With a small smile, he pushed his bowl to Milly. "Please, fill 'er up."


	23. Chapter Twenty

TWENTY: intrusion

Stryker finally pushed his empty bowl away without asking for another serving. Meryl had to smile. The big man had Vash's appetite above all else. She wondered what it would be like if she gave them a single sandwich and told them to duke it out to see who would get it. She suspected nothing less than a stalemate.

"You know, I've spent the last three years of my life roaming the planet, wondering what to do." The girls looked to him, curious. "If Vash is really…well, I was cloned from his blood, then maybe I should stay with him."

The girls shared a look. "You're sure?" Meryl asked.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Milly echoed.

He shrugged. "He's the only one who can answer my questions. I don't even know who I am, truly. It's obvious he does."

Meryl smiled. It seemed he was ready to accept the story they had shared with him. They really hadn't given the man much to doubt. When Vash wanted to get a point across, he had a very soft way of speaking that could make the coldest of hearts want to believe the truth of his words. "I'm sure Vash would welcome you with open arms, Sean. I know Milly does, and so do I."

----------

"That's it?" Faye asked as she wrinkled her nose at the ship nestled snugly against the granite walls of the cave, her eyes and ears open.

"I think so," Spike replied.

"What a pile of junk!"

"And the _Bebop_ isn't? Beggars can't be choosers, Faye, or didn't you know that?"

She shot a look to him and drew her handgun. _Just give me a reason, you little shit._ "Can we just get this over with?"

He grinned. "I think that's my line."

"Damnit, Spike! You're such an asshole!"

"Hey, could ya keep it down?" he said. "I know you want to kill me, but do ya have to alert every bad guy in a ten mile radius?" He considered his words as he glanced to the shuttle behind her. "Better yet, keep right on going. You'd make a good distraction while I rush in and grab the bounty."

She growled. "Would…you…just…_shut_ the fuck up?! I know what I'm doin', alright?!"

He rolled his eyes, grabbing a cigarette from within his pocket, along with his lighter. "If you ask me, this is going to be a complete waste of time."

"You didn't have to come, you know that?"

After he lit his fresh smoke, Spike stuffed the lighter back into his pocket. "Somebody's gotta keep you out of trouble."

Faye rolled her eyes. "Just…" She clenched her eyes shut, fighting back the anger raging through her heart. "Let's go, okay?" Holding her gun at the ready, the young woman slipped off into the shadows of the corridor.

Spike sighed and followed after her, hands stuffed into his pockets. He casually glanced about the seed shuttle. He didn't see any reason to have his gun out. No need to reveal just what kind of threat he was with a gun.

Not yet anyway.

----------

"It makes me happy you want to stay, too," Milly announced as she gazed with bright eyes to the man across from her. She had watched him closely as he ate the meal she'd prepared with Vash-like efficiency. If nothing else, the two had identical appetites.

Meryl had to smile as she drew her fingers slowly along the tabletop. She was about to ask Stryker a question when the man slowly rose and turned his eyes to the door. She looked at him and glanced back.

Then she noticed it, the faint scent of smoke in the air. The kind from a cigarette.

She reached her hand into her cape and grabbed a derringer.

As she rose, Stryker was already halfway across the room. She reminded herself of his abilities. She suspected he had known for a while now. Vash would have waited until one of the others indicated they had.

----------

Eventually, Spike pulled his gun free and tossed the burning cigarette butt to the ground. The sound of voices down the corridor clued them in on which direction to go. They had decided not contact Ed; there was too much risk involved in communicating right now, and Spike hadn't wanted to face the consequences of loosing the upper hand. Suddenly, Faye froze at the sound of a woman's voice: "It makes me happy you want to stay, too."

She looked to Spike. He nodded but said nothing. They listened intently to the shadows, waiting. Several moments passed, and there was no sound. Then there was the shuffling of chairs. Soft footfalls approached, at least three sets of feet. Faye realized that they were coming from just beyond a door right next to her. She wasn't quiet sure what they were here to face, but whatever it was, they were going to face it shortly. As she took a deep breath, the footfalls fell silent.

"Maybe you should stay away from the door. Let me handle it." Faye's blood nearly curdled. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers as she shot Spike a look. It was that voice again. The man from town. Vash the Stampede.

"Who do you think it is?" said the voice from before, the woman's voice. "We didn't see anybody in the desert." There was a silence, and the voice trailed out to the hallway as the girl called to them. "Hello? Who's out there?"

A second female voice followed: "Milly! I don't think that's helping."

Spike smirked. "Nothin' here but us rats," he called back.

Faye shot a look to Spike. He shrugged. "Oh, you're a big help," she said curtly, and jumped into the doorway, lifting her gun. "Don't. Move."

There were three of them, as she'd expected. Vash stood to the right, and a small woman to the left. Between them stood a girl that towered over Faye, who stood nearly six feet tall herself. The girl in the middle gave her a smile, something out of place that seemed to somehow fit the voice. "Oh! Hello. What're you planning on doing with that?"

The smaller woman lifted two of her own weapons, narrowing her eyes.

Faye gawked at the derringers, suppressing a laugh. "God, ain't that a kick in the shorts," she mused. Her eyes turned toward the man in black. It was him, no doubt. The same man from the town. "Hey there, hon. Remember me?"

"Not exactly," Vash said, glowering.

Faye lifted a brow. In that moment, her phone rang. She groaned in irritation and shot a look at Spike. "Damnit, not now!" she shouted. "Spike, would you take that?"

"What the hell's going on in there?" he asked from behind her.

The phone's insistent ring racked her brain. "Answer the phone damnit! It's Ed!"

"Okay, okay…I got it! Geesh."

Faye smirked and focused of the three across from her. "Sorry about that. It's just so hard to get good help these days, ya know." She eyed Vash for a moment, and then frowned. "Hey, wait a sec. You weren't wearing black last time I saw you. And what's up with the hair?" The man crossed his arms, glaring down at her. Faye could swear the man's hair was six inches longer than it had been back in town. She shot a look to the two women. "I remember seeing you in the doorway of the bar. Just who the hell are you?"

The big girl leaned forward. "I guess nobody told you who we were," she said matter-of-factly. Her grin was pleasant, trusting, despite the pistol trained on her. "Well, this is my friend Meryl Stryfe, better known as Derringer Meryl. And that's our friend Mr. Stryker, and he's a real good shot. And my name is Milly Thompson but you can call me Stun…oops!"

As she was making her own introduction, she opened her overcoat and a huge hunk of black metal spilled free, crashing to the floor at Faye's feet. She stared down at the weapon. _Some kind of gun?_ she wondered.

The big girl was bright red. "Sorry 'bout that."

Faye shook her head in frustration. "Now just hold on. Your name's Stryker?" She pointed the gun at him, though not threateningly. Her hand went to her hip as she tried to make sense of the situation. "Alright, I'm seriously confused. If your name is Stryker, then where the hell is Vash the Stampede?"

"You just missed him," the man said, glaring. "What are you, another worthless bounty hunter out for the sixty billion? Do you know how many people bounty hunters end up hurting just because he's too slick for them."

"Uh…"

"My real name's Sean Ryker. I'm just a vagabond, nothing more. Not anymore, anyway. And you won't be getting that reward. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't catch him. Just ask all the people who've failed."

Behind her, Spike was in the middle of a conversation with Radical Edward.

The girl's eyes were covered by her goggles, and she chattered on endlessly about something that seemed insignificant to him. Something about spare equipment in the ship. Spike really didn't give a shit. What mattered was the first bit of news she had already shared.

"Look, Ed," he interrupted. "We're kinda busy at the moment. Why not check out exactly what it is Jet wants from the hull so we can get it and get back to us, okay? Until then, just let us do our job, okay?"

He hung up and rolled his eyes.

----------

Ed leaned back. "Hey! Meanie!" She crossed her arms and then leaned toward the TV, adjusting something on Tomato. "What's going on in there, Ein?"

The dog simply barked.

Behind her, Jet poked his head through the kitchen door. "Hey Ed, any luck in that seeds ship?"

"No luck. Real bounty-person left, but Spike-person hung up on Ed!"

The old man shrugged. He actually felt a little sorry for the girl. He smiled and pulled out a small paper bag. "Come here, Ed. Faye bought some chocolate when she was in town, if you want some."

At the mention of chocolate, Ed shot to her feet and started to run toward him, only to be snagged back by her goggles, as they were still connected to the computer. "Ack!" she cried as her feet flew out from under her and she fell flat on her back. After a moment, she struggled to her feet and ripped the goggles from her eyes. She half-crawled, half-ran to where Jet waited. "Edward likes sweets! Can Ed have chocolate, Jet-person? Puh-leaze?"

He grinned. "All right, all right." He gave her a bar of candy, chewing on his own. It'd been a long time since he'd eaten anything sweet. It actually tasted pretty good.

Ed tore the candy from his hand and raced off to Tomato. She barely had the wrapper off before she took the first bite. "Woah!" She giggled and shook excitedly.

Jet followed, leaning over her shoulder. "You said Vash left the area."

"That's right."

"I want to get a look at this duplicate," he said, approaching the television. "Can you get a link?"

"Affirmative!" she squealed, and went to work.

----------

"Faye?" He pushed past her through the door and leaned against the counter. He noticed the big girl rambling on about something. She paused a moment as he came in and waved unexpectedly. He actually raised a hand to wave back.

"Oh, are you a bounty hunter too? I don't know what you plan on doing but Mr. Vash is the kindest, gentlest person in the whole universe. He's also the toughest guy I know." She beamed. Spike thought she talked too much, but she had a redeeming quality that Faye was severely lacking. She wasn't a bitch. "And he can see your bullets coming before you even squeeze the trigger," she added. "It's really amazing, ya know?"

"Yeah," Spike said. "I guess that would be something."

"Look, I'm real sorry you came out all this way but if you're here after the bounty you have to leave, 'kay?"

He stared at her. She was almost as weird as Ed was. He was smiling, despite feeling like a rat. "Sorry for the intrusion," he said. "We'll just take what we need and be out of your hair." With a sigh, he looked to Faye. He took the young woman by the shoulders and ushered her from the room. "Real smart Faye. Let's not go around picking fights if we don't have to, okay? He's obviously not here. Let's get what we need from the ship and just get out of here." He lowered his voice. "So if you're done playing…"

"God damnit, lunkhead! Yes, I'm done 'playing,'" she muttered, a scowl on her face. She pushed away from him and started off down the hall. With a shrug, Spike followed her down the hall.

She led him outside and snatched the phone from Spike. "Now let me show you how to handle those two bozos. Getting info from you people is like pulling teeth." She punched in the code to tap into Ed's communication signal and waited. After a moment, Ed's face appeared on the screen.

"Faye-Faye!" the girl giggled, her face stained brown.

"Hey Ed. I just wanted to ask about Vash…hey! That's _my_ chocolate! Where did you get that?!"

"Jet-person found sweets in the kitchen!"

"If you little bastards eat all of it, I'm gonna kill you!"

A moment later, Jet's face took the place of Ed's. "Can it Faye. It was my money." His face expanded as he leaned closer. The sound of Ed's endless giggles didn't even fade. "You two think you can get the parts I need? Ed can upload the information to you."

Faye glared. "Yeah, we can get the parts, but if you eat all the chocolate, you'll have more than a few bad parts to worry about." She sighed, shaking her head. "Well, let's get this done. We hafta walk all around this junk pile until we get everything Jet needs." She smiled. "And then we're going after Mr. Sixty Billion."


	24. Interlude 3

INTERLUDE: from the diary of meryl stryfe

_July 19, Year 131, 12:30 a.m. – Stryker defended us today in a way that reminds me so very much of Vash. As those two off-worlders raped this ship and took what they would need to get their own off the ground, he revealed a passion for survival that would rival that of the Humanoid Typhoon. He was thorough, watching them even when they could not be seen. I can't believe, sometimes, how powerful the senses of these two special people really are. I truly believe that if a single heart stopped beating somewhere on this godforsaken planet, they would sense it._

_Whoever those people were, they've been watching us since the moment we stepped foot onboard. Stryker cued in on the cameras that are littered throughout the ship, each in working condition, and confidently destroyed them all. I don't know who the hell they are, but by damned they're not watching us while we rest our bones and wait for the return of Vash the Stampede._

_I don't know where he went, or how long he intended to be gone, but I do know that he will return to me. He wouldn't keep a good love like ours waiting._

_Well, I don't know. I've been wrong before. Very wrong. What truly matters is that this time, we're involved, and he knows it. He's not going to leave us with Stryker and disappear. He knows me better than that. I'd strangle the very life from him if he pulled that God-damn stunt on me, and he knows it._

_Milly disappeared after our off-world visitors left the SEEDS shuttle with the parts they needed, along with a few gallons of water. I don't know exactly what she was doing, but I'm pretty sure she has her reasons. She doesn't do things like this often, but when she does it's habitual. She has something up her sleeve. I only wish I knew what it was. I would have followed her but she got away before I could figure out she was even leaving._

_So there it is, all of my aches and pains in a few simple paragraphs. Vash is gone, bounty hunters are after him, and overlaying all that bullshit are his own problems. I don't know if I have any room to bitch, but I fully understand just why I can't. Who am I, anyway, to use my own petty troubles to gain leverage over his heart? That's not love, that's selfishness._

_Therefore, I've decided that I'll tend to my own problems on my own time. It really doesn't matter. Even if I were to focus on myself, there'd be no guarantee that anything would ever come of it. Vash's problems are my own, as is, and without his love I would be lost. I look down the road that winds in the distance and wonder where it might lead. I only know it makes no difference, so long as I walk alongside him. The world turns, on and on, and all I can do is smile. If it all falls apart, I will know deep inside that the only dream that mattered has already come true: in this life, I was loved by Vash the Stampede._


	25. Chapter Twenty One

TWENTY-ONE: red coat

Four hours had passed, which meant that the journey had taken longer than he had anticipated. After all, he still had an untreated bullet wound in his left calf. But that didn't matter. Not really. What mattered was that he was here, and that Knives was waiting. There were so many questions Vash had to ask.

When he came to the valley, he stood on the tallest dune, silent, overlooking the alien fortress where he had imprisoned his brother. The great dome was nestled deep into the barren valley, hidden from view to anyone who did not know where to look. Vash had known, and now he knew without a doubt that somebody else had been here. In fact, there had been a lot of people here, very recently, and it appeared as though they had lain siege on his brother's stockade. Concern rippled through him, and he knew before he went inside what he would find there.

That didn't make him want to move any faster. He was glad for the 8-shooter strapped to his side, the weapon he had "borrowed" from Stryker. It meant that he had more to his defense than a near-empty machine-gun hidden in a chamber within his left, prosthetic arm.

Visions of the woman of his past, of Rem Saverem, filled his heart. He cherished the way she gave him new hope whenever he remembered her. He thought of her now, for all the pain in his heart as he realized the hardships to come. _Vash, take care of Knives._

With a deep breath, Vash stepped down and into the valley. The soothing midnight breeze wind cooled him as it breathed gently against the thin layer of sweat painted against his skin. Of the many things that had been bothering him, most of his worries took a backseat to the oddity that had taken shape since he had neared the valley.

He couldn't feel his brother, yet he didn't see how Knives could possibly be anywhere _but _this place. It simply didn't make sense. Any escape simply wasn't possible. If Knives was gone, Vash couldn't see how. Not at this point in time.

Knives was either there, or he was gone. Vash just had to do a little investigating, that was all.

_I'm coming Knives. Just hold tight, and it'll all be over soon._

----------

Vash fled the fortress as fast as he could, trembling and stumbling over every item along the way. Nausea crept up through his stomach to his brain, fighting him all the way. It was difficult to see straight.

He couldn't remember entering, or the long walk through the dark corridors along the way to the cells where his brother had been trapped. All that he remembered was his brother's face, somehow somber and peaceful, despite the dried blood caked in streams and the gaping hole where his right eye had been.

Finally, after what seemed to be forever, Vash stumbled back out into the sunlight. He staggered a little, moving until he was clear of the ship's entrance, and threw himself to the ground. He emptied the contents of his stomach into the sand. Tears of sorrow followed moments later.

"Stand up, Vash. I want you to see for yourself the man that slaughtered the brothers who were the first of our kind."

Vash's eyes widened.

_The first of our kind._

He knew without a doubt that he had just stumbled into the biggest challenge of his life. It tore him up inside, having just located the man who had so brutally executed his brother. The man who shared his voice. _Stryker?_ he pondered to himself, but realized that there was no way this was the same man he had faced in the SEEDS shuttle.

The time had come for him to choose. Again. He had failed his brother. The tears of his failure still fell into the pile of vomit that lay beneath him. The weight he had felt at his hip before grew only heavier as he realized the actions he would be forced to take this day.

The man standing nearby intended to take his life, just as he had killed Knives.

"No need to worry about your friends, either. They will soon join you and your brother."

Vash narrowed his eyes. "Don't you ever believe I'd make it that easy for you."

He looked up, seeing his duplicate some thirty feet away, standing there. Everything about him was Vash the Stampede.

The spiked hair. The red coat. The sunglasses. The leather straps clung to his prosthetic left arm. Vash frowned. The man knew the image before him well. He _was_ Vash the Stampede. It was like looking into the face of the past.

Except the past was grinning. The real Vash didn't think it was all that funny.

There, in the valley that surrounded the titanium fortress that Vash had chosen as Knives' prison, the ultimate gun battle commenced.

The two Vashes moved like lightening, racing toward one another, drawing their weapons in a blur. As they leapt toward one another, they took aim.

Each was quick. Each knew the other was beyond limitation. Each filled the air with six bullets. Each missed their mark as they twisted in midair to avoid the deadly projectiles. Each gripped the other's arm, twisting at it, trying to knock away the weapon their opponent held.

Vash's eyes widened as he saw the silver magnum his duplicate carried, a magnum he thought he recognized. In fact, he was sure of it. His angel arm gun, the one he'd left after his confrontation with Knives.

They crashed to the ground, fighting to wrestle the weapons from one another's grip. Somehow, in the confusion, both plant-spawn found their way to their feet. Vash turned his eyes to his duplicate's face and saw sinister sneer on his lips. "Tell me who's responsible for this!" he shouted.

"It doesn't matter, Vash the Stampede," the other replied. "Soon, you'll be dead, and I will effortlessly slide into your place. I will treat your name as it is meant to be treated. No pussyfooting around."

"Not…that…easy!" Vash retorted, and at that moment used a rush of adrenaline to wrench the silver magnum from his grip. At the same moment, the impostor knocked his own weapon free. Both guns tumbled away. Seeing his opportunity, Vash unleashed his hidden machine-gun, but before he could bring it up to take aim, his duplicate wrapped his arm around the prosthetic limb, forcing him to spray the remainder of his bullets into the desert beyond.

"Easy enough." The man in red brought his left fist down across Vash's brow, knocking him to his knees. A boot followed, and he fell flat onto his back. That same boot kicked the black 8-shooter up and he caught it in his left hand. Turning slowly toward Vash, the impostor smirked. "Easier."

He fired. Vash spun left to avoid the seventh bullet of the weapon, sweeping his prosthetic limb beneath the other to knock his feet out from under him. In that instant, his hand found his silver magnum. It set in his grip like an extension to his arm.

_Empty, _Vash thought. _Of course it is, stupid. You heard him fire six shots._

_But yours isn't, _Wolfwood's voice countered. Vash's eyes widened.

Time stood still as Vash spun to the right. Pain torched his right arm, though he knew he had only been nicked. At the same instant, he flung the magnum like a boomerang at his impostor, hitting him square in the face and knocking him back. Vash leapt to his feet, following through with a right-hand punch to the jaw. Two more punches followed, and in that instant he heard the eighth shot of Stryker's weapon ring out. His duplicate smirked, turning despite his swollen face and bloodied nose, he spun, turning his back as Vash crashed onto his back, snatching the angel arm magnum as it spun in midair. Vash was already on his feet as he snatched the tiny weapon from his belt. His duplicate pulled a fresh spool of bullets.

"Nice," his enemy murmured as turned back to take aim at Vash, certain that the fight was over.

There was another click as the angel arm magnum chamber slammed shut. Their eyes met in that instant, and the duplicate's eyes widened as he saw Vash lift his arm, revealing the derringer in his grip. One last gunshot echoed across the land.

----------

_A series of images slid through Vash's mind as his duplicate slid to his knees._

_In a desolate realm, far to the north of the northernmost establishment of Gunsmoke, lay the ruins of an ancient limestone city. Here was a world untouched by the settlers of Gunsmoke, more than 3000 iles from civilization, a fallen city that stretched for as far as the eye could see._

_In the center of the city was a fallen coliseum, so large it would encompass five Roman Coliseums. Standing there, on the bare field, was an army of thousands._

_Each soldier stood, identical to the one before, tall and slim, yellow hair cropped short. Each was draped in black armor._

_Standing before the group was a man, large and muscular, his hair long and black. He wore a white overcoat with silver trim, and he carried a black shotgun. At his side was a Cross Punisher, like the one Wolfwood had carried. Two eyes, one real and one mechanical, glared out over the mass._

_A hateful smirk played on pale lips. Next to him was a tall blonde, standing at attention with a cool, calculating gaze as her perfect, emerald eyes swept out over the army. A perfect woman with flush, pink lips, a slender face and lucid, slender body in a skintight, leather jumpsuit the color of blood._

----------

He stood over a fresh corpse, gazing to the west. It hurt knowing the truth, knowing that he had been forced to kill one more time.

This time he was not torn up inside. This time he could justify pulling the trigger. It was as though he had killed the devil within himself. What the bastard had told him mentally, before his death, was all too clear. How Stryker and this other duplicate had come into existence, who was responsible for the hell he had discovered back at the SEEDS shuttle, knowing that Morgante the Warhead was behind it all…

It all clicked. It all came together, making horrifyingly perfect sense. It was all too clear: killing would become a necessity, an evil toward a good end. It was inevitable.

He bent down over the corpse and began to fiddle with the red coat.

_In the language of the flowers, red means "determination" and "courage."_

A hand slipped slowly through one red sleeve.

_The choices we make in life have unlimited possibilities. All I can do is think about them._

He slipped his prosthetic arm into the opposite sleeve and hiked the coat up onto his shoulders.

_And if you keep your vision clear, you will see the future. What happens in our future is our own responsibility._

Ten fingers, five flesh and five plastic, began to slip the buttons into place.

_Because they're angels… Perhaps we should pay more attention to them. Vash and Knives could be angels God sent us to point us in the right direction. They may even guide us to our dream._

"I'm sorry Rem," Vash whispered, staring to the Fifth Moon. "I shouldn't have left him alone. I shouldn't have left him defenseless."

He slid his sunglasses into the pocket inside his coat.

_No one ever has the right to take the life of another._

"Morgante, I'm through running." He tested the hidden gun. It sprung free and disappeared back into the chamber in his palm in a matter of a half a second. "I'm coming after you this time."

The man in red, the real Vash the Stampede, drew a deep breath and started back toward the SEED shuttle, where his future waited.


	26. Chapter Twenty Two

TWENTY-TWO: still strangers

Milly sighed down at her glass of water, wishing for something a little stronger. "I think we should go after him," she announced.

They'd gone after Vash once before, only to have themselves hog-tied, tortured and nearly murdered before his very eyes, courtesy of Legato Bluesummers. It had been the first time she had known Vash to take a life with his own hand, probably the first time he'd ever pulled the trigger with an intent to kill.

No, she knew it wasn't just probably. Legato had become Vash's first victim, his first kill. His first intentional kill. She had dreaded watching the pain in him as he recovered from the injuries of that day, both physical and emotional.

Those emotional wounds had been the worst of it by far.

She glanced up to Stryker. The two were alone, sitting at the table in the kitchen. It was well into the early morning hours, and Vash had still not returned. Meryl had gone off to take a walk. None of them had been able to find sleep.

"I know how much she cares for him," Milly said, a sigh in her voice. "You can see it on her face. He hurts her so much without meaning to. Like…well, oh…" Her thought fizzled out when she couldn't find the words to express it. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but she wiped them away before they could fall.

Stryker leaned toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, are you all right?"

She didn't answer, and she probably wouldn't. He didn't press the matter. He let her lean against his shoulder to rest. It felt pretty good, he had to admit, offering his shoulder to a lovely young woman, though he didn't truly know her. Not yet. She was nice, she was funny, but she was still a stranger. They were all still strangers.

What the hell was he doing here?

But the memory of what he had seen in the geo-plant, the knowledge Vash had shared with him, swept all those questions to the backdrop of his thoughts.

Milly sighed quietly and let her eyes drift closed. He brushed her hair from her eyes, watching her in silence, glad to have her at his side. Glad that she trusted him enough, though they were still strangers.

----------

Meryl continued walking away until she stood out in the open desert. Her thoughts were of Vash, of course. They had been of Vash since his departure, though she was no longer angry with him for having left. He was only thinking of her well-being, of everyone's well-being. What right did she have to be angry at all?

She scanned the horizon, but he wasn't there. She didn't expect to see him. Not quiet yet. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel sad that he wasn't there, by her side, right where she most desperately needed him.

Her troubles didn't fade. She had a nagging worry tearing away at her soul, a terrible feeling that grew and grew and made her even more worried. So instead of standing around in that cold ship and letting her troubles eat at her, she had decided to go for a walk.

She was watching the horizon, wishing for his safe return, when a single headlight appeared on the horizon. A motorcycle, she realized, coming directly for her from the northeast. She frowned, wondering who would be traveling out here at this time of night. To be safe, she rushed out of sight and hid behind a large dune, derringer in hand.

Very soon, the motorcycle rolled to a stop right where she had stood. She watched the silhouette of a man rise from the bike to look around.

The man was Vash. He was shaking his head, grinning, reminded of those video images of deer Rem used to show him. When a deer was cast in the glow of headlights, often they would stare up at the oncoming in surprise right before they would bound away to hide. His coat flowing in the breeze, Vash glanced to the dune where she had run.

"Meryl? Come on out. It's just me."

Meryl didn't show herself. Not immediately. "You're back earlier then I thought you would be," she whispered.

"I know."

"We had visitors while you were gone," she said, her voice drifting to him from the shadows. "Your friend from Black Rock. They took some parts from the hull and left. We found some cameras too; Stryker destroyed them."

Vash nodded. "I knew he would take care of you."

"Something was bothering me after you left," she replied, huddled against the dune where he couldn't see her. She sighed and finally rose to her feet, meeting his gaze. When she saw the red coat, questions instantly arose that she had not expected. Her eyes were wide as she inspected him, seeing him as she had seen him so many times before, seeing him as she had seen him before she had truly understood who he was. "Vash, what happened out there?"

He stared at her for the longest time, uncertain of how to tell her what he'd learned. Uncertain of how to tell her that she too was marked for death, not just Vash the Stampede. They were all marked for death now. At least she would like the fact that she would get to stay with him now. That much was certain. If he let her out of his sight, he would be unable to protect her, and she was as good as dead.

He wet his lips and approached her, slowly, fighting to get a better look at her in the darkness of night. The Fifth Moon hovered high overhead, an ominous reminder of the capabilities of his right arm. His heart leapt to his throat as he decided there would be no sense holding it off. "Knives is dead," he whispered. "They found him and butchered him while he was defenseless." He closed his eyes, fighting back a tear. "I imprisoned him and left him defenseless, Meryl. He died because of me."

She turned away then, listening to him and pausing a long moment before nodding. "I felt something was wrong," she whispered. "I guess we should start preparing for the worst."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Vash, you can't blame yourself for Knives. Rem would understand. Even you couldn't have protected him from something like this. Don't you think Knives would understand that, too?" Before he had a chance to respond she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around him. She wanted to let him know she was there for him, and there was no better way than this. He could cry right here and now and she would never see him as anything less than the man she knew him to be. "No right shall fail you, Vash. No wrong will prevail. I know this in my heart."

"I know the man who hunts me, Meryl." She turned her eyes to him, confused. "He's more dangerous than any man I have ever faced. He's dangerous because he commands an army of plant-spawn, recycled from the arm I lost during the July incident."

She frowned, gazing up to him.

"There's no doubt now what he intends to do. He's going to punish me for believing it was over. He's going to come at me and fight until I am dead, until all those around me are dead. It means that our time here may be ended sooner than either of us anticipated."

"Vash?"

"Meryl, I don't know if I can beat him," he whispered. He let his words sink in. Her eyes turned away from him. He wanted to gauge her reaction as she clung to his every word, and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was crushed to hear this news. Before, he had said she couldn't go. Would she expect the same of him now?

"Vash… I can't leave you again. I won't leave you."

He took her in his arms and crushed her to his chest. "What I'm about to tell you hurts me in every facet of my life, but it also means that you and I have come full circle. His name is Morgante the Warhead, and if we are going to stop him, we have to go right away."

Meryl turned her eyes up to his. "We?"

He nodded.

She clenched her eyes tightly as the world seemed to fall away from her. There would be no happy ending. No happily ever after. The sound of his voice seemed to confirm it. What was happening now was only the beginning of a very tragic end. She'd known it was coming since before she proclaimed herself, though she was surprised at just how much it stung to hear it though Vash's very own words.

She pulled back from him, breaking whatever it was and started back for the shuttle. "Let's go get Stryker and Milly, then."

There would only be that one tender moment which Meryl would take with her. It was not as grand as what Milly and Wolfwood had shared, but Meryl knew it would be enough. Until she had breathed her last, anything Vash could have offered, one kiss or a million, it would be enough.

He took a deep breath and followed after her. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he watched her guide him back toward the shuttle. His heart broke to thing that he would never have the time to take her in his arms and share more than a passionate kiss.

But a moment like that would likely never come. Not with the shadow lingering overhead. He peered at the fifth moon and shuddered. He wished for one moment that he was no more than a mortal man, and that he and Meryl had met in another lifetime, and that they had spent their lives together beneath a single sun in a vast, green world.

He thought of Earth, the world Rem had left behind so long ago, and of Alex, the man his hairstyle represented, who had shared a brief but joyful time with her. It pained him to no end how Rem's love life so closely resembled his own: tragically brief.

"We'll get Milly to make you some soup or something. You must be starving."

He closed his eyes when she tempted him with an offer of food. A smile crept onto his sad face. "That sounds nice," he said gently.

She led him into the shuttle, glancing to him from the corner of her eye. It was tearing at her to see him like this, so grim. She only seldom saw him quite like this, and it frightened her even more than the thought of her untimely end. _We'll make it through this, Vash. You have to believe that._ But she couldn't find the strength to say it aloud.

She couldn't let it end like this, on such a sad note with a false smile that would stay in her eyes until the skies themselves faded and the world blackened around her. She wished to take a happy thought with her to the shallow grave which waited for her in the not so distant future. She couldn't let it end like this.

Suddenly, she paused in the corridor and took his hand. Grabbing him by the collar of his coat, she pulled him down to her, demanding his attention one last time before they went off to face what was to be the final page this very short chapter of their lives. She placed her lips to his. She closed her eyes as tears poured down her cheeks.

She gave him everything she had then and there, all in that simple moment.

He parted from her suddenly, gazing to her with eyes that were full of tears. She still clung to the collar of his red coat, refusing to let go. He didn't try to pry free of her. He just wanted to look at her, take her in while the moment was still new. He was so grateful for her company, for her friendship. For her love.

She had his, unconditional and unparalleled. His eyes trailed from hers, down the length of her perfect nose to her plush lips. He wrapped his arms carefully around her, feeling so terribly sorry for all of his failures as a companion.

Would the others be able to follow him as he knew she would?

No doubt Milly would follow the both of them into the pits of hell if it were required, and he thought that maybe Stryker would understand his part in the twisted tale that was their history, a history that seemed to grow more corrupted by the day.

His fingers idly traced her spine as he gazed to her, and slowly he tilted his head back toward hers, returning his lips to their rightful place. He hoped he hadn't broken the moment before.

He tasted her, clinging to her as tears continued to spill down his cheeks. He knew they were falling onto her face, knew that his sorrows were melding with her love, and that only bound him tighter to her, in a way he hadn't expected. His spirits rose as he breathed her into him, letting the power of her spirit pour into his body and soul, lifting him from the pits of despair.

His past didn't matter. His future could wait.

Right now, all that mattered was a simple kiss.

Meryl tasted the tears she more than she felt them. They were mixed with hers and fell to the metal floor of the long-deserted shuttle, momentarily warming the cold metal floor, giving wake to the future that awaited them. It was not a warm bed they could possibly share, but a cold and hollow grave somewhere out in the barren desert, where no one ever deserved to be buried, covered not by the satin sheets they deserved, but by a blanket of blood.

There were no happy endings.

All that awaited them was the bitter knowledge that the end had come in more ways then they knew. Meryl could feel time pulling not only away from her, but away from the one she held her so eagerly and meaningfully in his arms. She broke away, gazing to him with soft, wounded eyes that could no longer hide all that was inside.

"I couldn't just let it end like that," she whispered. She closed her eyes and placed soft kisses to his cheeks and lips, gritting her teeth against the pain that washed over her. "'Live each day as your last,'" she murmured, quoting the famous line. "How do you live when you know that your last day is here?"

He smiled, gently caressing her face. "I will protect you, Meryl. I will not let it end so easily. Morgante may know me inside out, but if that's true he knows I'll never give up without a fight."

He stared into her eyes, lost in love.

Love.

His eyes widened in realization. _Love._

He closed his eyes, his heart racing. Deep inside, he felt the joy of life swelling through his soul and crushing the demons that had engulfed it. The answer was there, standing before him, an answer that he did not need to hear from Rem or from his departed brother or from his own painful experiences. His memories didn't matter.

It was the presence of love that made him understand. The presence of the woman before him who had so easily stolen his heart. Again she had given him the answer. Both times, she had only been stepping in harms way, determined to save him. Before it had been the men in a little town where he had left them a year ago, when she had stood before them with her arms outstretched and lectured them in the style of Rem Saverem. _Nobody ever has the right to take the life of another._

"God-damnit Meryl, why didn't you just say it?" He grinned, an unforced, enlightened smile that filled the room with light. She blinked suddenly but barely had time to react before he scooped her up into his arms and spun her around. "You've given me the answer!"

She clung to him, not sure of what had changed, but glad it had. She felt more at home then in their previous encounter in the way he was speaking to her now, just enough to give her a measure of hope.

"I…I don't understand."

He crushed her into his embrace and found her lips again. It was a brief, loving kiss. The tears were gone. Now his eyes shimmered with love and understanding. "If we hold true to our love, there is nothing that can stop us." He cupped her cheeks gently with both hands. "So long as we believe in love, he can't tear us apart."

She raised her hands and locked them around his wrist and simply stared at him. "I won't let you go and do anything alone anymore, Vash. Wherever you go, I'll be right here at your side, no matter how much you protest."

He smiled. "I really don't have a choice in the matter, do I?"

"No, you don't."

"Well then, here you will stay," he said gently. He kissed her again. "I'll be with you until my parting breath. We're in this together." He blinked at the irony of his next words: "Until death do us part."

Meryl shivered slightly and nodded.

"The man who set this trap…I told you his name is Morgante the Warhead."

She nodded again. "I remember."

"Well, he's the last of the Gung-Ho Guns that once followed my brother." He wet his lips, engulfing her tiny hands in his own. She blinked, unsure as to why he had stopped, but something made the wheels turn faster and her breath to be sucked in. He stared at her with doubt. "His real name is Richard Stryfe."

Meryl's spine went rigid._ Richard Stryfe._

"I don't know the name myself," he said quietly. "I thought originally it was a coincidence. You look nothing like the man, but the name always drew me back to you. I just couldn't know for sure. But then, I went to find Knives yesterday, and I was drawn into a battle with another clone."

He choked on the word, closing his eyes.

"When I gunned down my impostor, he was wearing this coat, and he had my angel arm magnum." He tapped the silver handgun at his side. "I don't know when they got it, but they would have had to have taken it from the place where I fought Knives last year. It means they must also have Wolfwood's Cross Punisher. If I know the Gung-Ho Guns, they'll try to use it against us."

He reached out with his real hand and placed it against her cheek. "The man I fought, the other Vash, resembled me in every facet but one. He didn't have heart. It made him arrogant. It saved my life. Richard Stryfe is a man who would do anything to hurt me, even if it meant taking out his own family." He stared quietly at her for a moment. "That was when I knew I couldn't part from you again. Ever."

The color drained from Meryl's face. If it was not for the soft breaths that escaped her lungs every so often, one might have thought her dead. How could it be? It couldn't be true, yet she knew in her heart that Vash wouldn't make light of this. If he said anything to her, he meant it.

_Richard Stryfe…doesn't look anything like you…wouldn't hesitate…_ She shook her head against the soft skin of Vash's palm. She had read in her last few letters from her broken home that he had disappeared, had wandered off into the desert. They didn't know anything.

_Now I know,_ she thought, gazing to Vash.

What a burden that was being placed on her. "Oh God," she whispered, leaning into him. Somehow she managed to push away and turned to look down the corridor which suddenly reminded her of the cool length of a gun barrel.

She blinked again at the two tall figures that appeared from the shadows—Milly and Stryker. They stared at Vash and Meryl with concern. "Did I just hear right?" Vash's duplicate asked. He was shirtless, revealing the smooth, perfect skin against the body of a young athlete, so unlike the tarnished flesh of the Humanoid Typhoon. He ran his fingers through his long hair, which fell loosely around his shoulders. He held Milly's canteen. Next to him, Milly wore a simple, white blouse and a long, blue skirt.

His green eyes accepted the truth in Vash's quiet gaze. "I'll go get my guns," he said finally, and turned from them, retreating back down the hall.

He looked to Meryl and sighed. The secret was out and by the look on Milly's face, she was filled with concern. The journey would be underway, and this time, Vash wouldn't be making the trip alone.

There were also deeper things, animalistic needs that seemed odd for him. After all, Vash the Stampede was a plant-spawn, not human, but the desire filled him nonetheless. His eyes went to Meryl, trailing the length of her body, and finally returned to her face, peering into her gorgeous, violet eyes.

He didn't say anything. The look in his eyes was powerful enough.

They spoke a simple promise, a promise that spoke volumes for his character. _I will protect you Meryl. I promise._

He would protect Milly too, with all his heart. _Milly._ Looking to her, Vash grinned and reached out to wrap an arm around Meryl's shoulder, pulling her to him. He smiled brilliantly despite the terrible truth of the situation, awaiting her reaction.

If hearts were dynamite, Milly's would have exploded in her chest then and there. She dashed over to her friends and crushed the both of them into her powerful embrace. Tears streamed down her face as she cradled them near hear heart, right were they belonged. "Oh! I love you two!" she cried.

Meryl laughed. "We love you, too, Milly."

"You'd better, or I wouldn't know what to do," she replied, heartfelt love pouring through her simple response. The world was certainly at its finest when Milly was happy. She held them a little tighter. "I'd walk to the edge of the world and back, so long as the journey was with you."

Vash had to smile. "Us too, Milly."

_With all our hearts._

----------

The trip was begun. Vash and Meryl rode on the bike he had taken from his impostor back at the alien fortress, and Milly and Stryker followed only a few bike lengths behind. Meryl clung to him, eyes drifting to his troubled face as they sped to the north. She wondered what he had been doing in there, in the geo-plant, before they had departed for the north, a land void of settlers.

_I'll be back shortly. There's just something I have to do. Wait right here._

She had been hesitant to let him go, but when she realized where he was headed, she hadn't protested. He wasn't going far enough to lose her, anyway. So she had let him go. As he had promised, after only five minutes, he had returned to them.

"Vash," she murmured, staring up at him, so trusting, so loving. "The name, Richard Stryfe. I know it."

He nodded. "Thought as much."

She squeezed her arms tighter around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder, as if needing all the strength he had to offer. She needed to say this before anyone else could steal something more from them. This was something she could not speak of easily. The dark truth of the matter burned into her, making her blood run cold. "He is my father."

She closed her eyes and clung to him, as if she might wake up from a sudden nightmare, but it was all still there. Those words, ringing in her soul: _Richard Stryfe is a man who would do anything to hurt me, even if it meant taking out his own family._

"Somehow, I already knew that. I figured it could've been your uncle or maybe a distant relation, but that would've been too easy, right?" He had to smile a little, resting his flesh and blood hand on hers as she clung to his waist.

They were in this together. They would be through to the ultimate end.

He would protect her. If she had to die, he would make sure she did not meet that end alone. She would not die before him. It was a silent vow he made to himself, though he refused to speak it aloud.

He wondered, briefly, how he was going to tell her that he had already made another vow, to Knives and to Rem, back at the alien fortress.

He would kill Stryfe if necessary.

"Hey, it's okay," Meryl whispered. "We'll get through this. Everything's gonna be alright, okay?"

He had to grin. "That's supposed to be my line."

"I know." After some time she offered her violet eyes up to Vash and gave him a gentle squeeze. "The world goes on by, and yet we are standing still. We watch the past through the eyes of yesterday, and yet there are words that lift us up and push us forward. The past never truly leaves us. It is carried around in the form of a song or the sigh of a breath held too long." She turned her gaze out to the vast wasteland, a slight breeze coming up to wrap around her and the others.

He sighed softly and touched her arm again, giving it a gentle squeeze. Slowly, he lifted up a little black object that he'd been fingering for some time.

"What's that?" Meryl asked.

----------

_One last time, Vash approached the plant, tears streaming down his face. The knowledge of the duty awaiting him rained down in torrential agony. He despised Morgante all the more for what he was about to do._

_He stood before the being, gazing to the hundreds of plant spawn within the hazy glass. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and fell to his knees before her._

_Begging forgiveness._

_Sometimes it's important to turn from the past and simply move into the future that often doesn't seem so clear. We keep on moving because that is our duty. That is the hand fate has dealt us. We continue to search for that bit of tomorrow we can cling to, desperate to snatch it up before it falls away, disappearing forever._

----------

Meryl blinked at the devise and continued to embrace him. She could feel the pain that consumed him but spoke nothing of it. Her heart raced as she started to realize just what she was looking at.

_There are people who may come and go in your life, but you are forever connected to those people in ways you cannot truly begin to understand. People you have known for years may move away, while others you have known only briefly come and go as the world turns, but in the end they are still a part of you, just as the sun is a part of the world._

She clung to him. The three of them, including Meryl, had always been close, would always be, but now there was a forth member of their party, a new friend to complete the circle. Not to replace the memories of the priest who had fallen for their cause over a year ago, but to strengthen the bond they all shared. Together they would defeat the evil that plagued their hearts and minds.

After a time, Vash idly twirled the object in his fingers as he gazed to the horizon. She heard him softly whisper, "Damn you, Knives. Even in death you torture me. At least this time, you're right."

He pressed down on the button on the end of the object.

Behind them, a brilliant flash of light filled the night sky. The world shook with tremendous thunder as the explosion tore through the desert, leaving the cave where the SEEDS shuttle had been hidden in the form of a giant crater.

He brought the bike to a stop and closed his eyes. She could see the tears trickling down his cheek. "Vash? What was–"

"If you want to save the butterflies," he whispered, bring his hand up to cradle his wounded heart, "you have to kill off all the spiders."

Soon, Stryker and Meryl came up alongside them. Milly was still gawking at the flames in the distant, stretching up into the night sky. "Meryl…" she whimpered, shaking furiously.

Meryl understood what had happened. She leaned into him, tears in her eyes. "Sometimes we must do the very thing we hate in order to save the things that we love," she whispered. She knew why Vash had left them alone back at the shuttle, just before they had left to go off to begin their search for Morgante. He had gone to make peace with the creature, to beg forgiveness from the very plant he had his mind set to destroy.

He had set the creature free, in her own mind, along with the hundreds of lives that it had contained. Her heart ached for him, though she knew that he had done exactly what needed to be done.

Vash stared to the horizon, the next step of his journey, and for the first time, he felt he had done a just thing. He had freed the geo-plant of slavery, saved the world from countless more plant spawn, and broken one source of Morgante the Warhead's power.

Tears of sorrow still clung to his lids. One occasionally slipped to the sand from his cheeks as he waited there, gazing to the Fifth Moon. He bid the path behind him a silent goodbye. He had suddenly become the executioner as well as the man who had given peace and freedom to the plant that Morgante, Meryl's father, had enslaved.

Death had crept into his soul, but this time it was a comforting thing, knowing that this geo-planet would no longer suffer.

Vash watched the northern horizon. They were out there somewhere, thousands of Vash clones, awaiting him, preparing to wreak havoc on the people of this world. Morgante had guided them toward that end, and as far as Vash could tell, it had all begun with the death of his brother.

He closed his eyes and gave Meryl's arm a squeeze. "I think," he said quietly, and returned his gaze to the horizon, to a land he had never seen before, "I'm ready to go on."

He started the bike up again and began the trek north, away from the destroyed SEEDS shuttle, away from civilization. They traveled together toward his destiny.


	27. Chapter Twenty Three

TWENTY-THREE: untold troubles

Stryker had tried to understand, but women were still a mystery to him after all this time. He lay near the campfire, gazing into her face, trying to contemplate what was going through her mind. She must be dreaming again, but what?

This was about as close as it got to torture, he realized. Milly was as gentle a creature as he had ever laid eyes on, as far as her heart was concerned. Well, that didn't mean she was physically gentle. She lugged around that damn stun gun, which in itself was enough to make him shudder. And he had patched the new holes that Vash had returned with after his bout with the other plant spawn. Meryl had been pissed that they had come all this way without him saying a word, but Vash had insisted that they hadn't had the time to wait around back at the shuttle.

He sighed. Milly was a hell of a woman. Every inch, every feature, but she still had the mindset of a child on occasion. He found himself drawn to her, as though guided by an angel to all the better things in life. He couldn't begin to describe the feelings that slammed through him with every pulse of his racing heart. Nobody understood the better things in life quite like Milly Thompson, and in the short time he had known her, he had already come to understand. She head one of those smiles that bore into him, whittling away at his heart and soul, shaping it into the mold of a man he did not recognize. A man he wanted to get to know.

Milly made Stryker feel like a new man.

He gazed out away from the campfire to see the man in red, sitting out in the desert and watching the Fifth Moon. He wondered what his duplicate was thinking, but he didn't plan on interrupting. Vash hadn't said much in awhile, and if he really wanted to say anything, Stryker knew that he would.

On the other side of the fire lay Meryl, curled up comfortably near the roaring flames. She slept as peacefully as her gentle counterpart. It was no wonder that Vash had grown so close to the pair over the years. It was an honor that they had accepted him into their tightly-knit group. Stryker had never been so readily accepted into any group in his past; only the Rykers had ever made him feel accepted. Now, Vash, Meryl, and Milly drew him in as if he were family.

It occurred to him that the three of them were closer than any family, tightly bound by the spirit of love and friendship.

They had traveled for twenty-four hours since the destruction of the SEEDS ship. Vash had wanted to get as far away from the ruins as physically possible. Somewhere along the line, they had run out of gas in the bikes and had to leave them to continue on foot. Stryker hadn't been too disappointed; after all, he had reached his target, and he could walk forever if he had to. His one concern was the girls. They only stopped now because they didn't have the near stamina of the plant spawn.

A smile crept across his features. He watched Milly dream.

He thought to the discussion they had shared back in the shuttle while Meryl waited for Vash to return from the desert with news of his brother's execution. While Vash was suffering great pains, Stryker was coming to understand Milly in a way that drew him ever closer to her.

She'd talked more about her family and her desire to build one of her own. She'd talked about Meryl the workhorse, Meryl the shrew, Meryl the angel, the dedicated, the determined. She'd talked about Vash the Stampede, the most human soul she had ever met despite the fact that he wasn't human at all. She even described herself in her own, simple words.

_I'm just me!_

Well, it had been short and sweet, at least. In its own simple way, it had been a profound explanation. He respected that. But it was the things she didn't say that drew him to her, the things that didn't require words to reveal truth. She was overflowing with love. She loved Meryl, and Vash, and all her family, and all of the people of this desolate realm. Love was a beast of many colors, and he could detect a hint of sadness when he asked if she had ever found on brand of love she hadn't mentioned.

_Well, there was one, but he went away. He left me to take care of them, and I always will. Not just because he asked me to but because I want to with all my heart._

She hadn't said a name, and he hadn't pressed matters.

_He must have been a good man,_ he had mused.

Milly had simply glowed as only she could. _He was the best of men, like you and Mr. Vash,_ she had replied.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from the sleeping girl's face. If he was the best of men, it was only because she and her friends had somehow brought it out in him. As he moved his hand away, she stirred, an odd little smile playing on her lips. Slowly, her eyes slid open and she stared into the rippling flames of the campfire.

"Oh…"

She turned her face to look at Stryker, and in a moment, she realized precisely where she was and her face began to glow with embarrassment that he was watching her.

Not that she didn't like the prospect of his eyes on her.

"Mr. Stryker!" she started, sitting up. "You're still awake?"

He smiled. "Couldn't sleep." He smiled and scooted a little closer to her. He held out a canteen, offering her some water. "Just thinking, that's all."

"Oh, thanks." She took the canteen and took a healthy swig. "Wow. It's still cold."

She shifted into a sitting position and slid to his side. "Thank you for coming with us. It means a lot."

He had to smile. "I don't know why I wouldn't. You three are more amazing then anyone I've run into in a long while. Your friendship reminds me of my foster parents. You guys care so much for each other. I don't think there's a place in the world I'd rather be." He cast her a sidelong glance, smiling.

She beamed. "That's really nice of you to say, Mr. Stryker. I'm just glad you decided to come, that's all."

She sat there a moment, gazing into the fire with a sparkle in her eyes. She couldn't help but shoot an occasional glance to Vash's duplicate. Apparently he was around 24 years old. Vash had been born well over a century ago. She wondered what life had been like back then, before Knives had destroyed Project SEEDS.

She sighed happily and sat there, soaking in life for all its worth.

Meryl lay upon the cool ground in a peaceful sleep. Her hair was strewn across the sand, collecting particles that caused it to glimmer in the faint light of three of Gunsmoke's moons. Her mouth parted slightly to allow her to breath silently. They were slow and deep, peaceful and calm. Stirring slightly, she laid her face against her slightly clasped hands, locked together as in silent prayer.

Her frame lay curled tightly together, much like a child in a fetal position, protecting itself. Eyes fluttered ever so slightly to give wake to the sleep cycle known as REM. She was lost in the world of her dreams, where life becomes the nightmares that can terrify any soul…the one place she could not escape her fears.

.... .... x .... ....

_"Higher, Daddy! Higher!" she cried._

_The man behind her laughed as he tossed her into the air with a grin. "Richard!" a woman screamed. "You're going to drop her! Put her down right now!"_

_The man relented and gave her a kiss on the nose, letting the small child run towards her mother. She was a younger image of Meryl, the same violet eyes sparkling up to her mother as she attempted her version of a puppy-dog face, something Meryl had never learned to master._

_"Oh, but Mommy! It was wonderful! I felt like a bird."_

_The woman merely smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead, and then turned to glare at the man who was staring out over the desert. "Go inside Meryl. Set the table."_

_The image faded into inky blackness. For a time, there was nothing, only the darkness of sleep, and then the haze of the dreamworld returned. Meryl stood there, two or three years older than she had been only moments ago, a pair of scissors clasped in one hand, a wad of black hair in the other._

_"Oh Meryl! What have you done to your lovely hair!" Her mother swept into the room as those same violet eyes turned and offered a cheesy grin. She gently pried the scissors from the girl's hands. A man stood behind her mother. He took one look at Meryl and started laughing. "Richard! Stop it! Look what your daughter has done to her lovely hair!"_

_But Richard didn't stop laughing. He walked over to Meryl and gave her a kiss on the nose, just the way he had always done. She loved it when he kissed her nose. "Don't listen to your mother, sweetheart. You look beautiful." With that he walked out, his laughter fading with the memory until it slowly washed away._

_A new image replaced the one before. Ten years later. She could remember to the day what she was seeing now, because it had been her eighteenth birthday._

_Two suitcases sat on the bed, clothes strewn about the room as she packed. Her mother stood in the doorway, drying the fresh tears from her face._

_"I have to go, Mother," Meryl said, folding another shirt and slipping it atop the others in the suitcase. "Can't you see that? I have to live my own life. I want to travel. I want to see the world. I'm sorry, but I have to leave."_

_She leaned down and clicked the suitcase closed before turning to stare at the woman leaning against the doorframe, crying. "You could end of dead, Meryl. Don't you know it's a dangerous world out there? The world is filled with dangerous people. I don't want to lose you like we lost your brother."_

_Meryl shook her head and walked over to her mother, laying a hand on her cheek. "I'll be careful, Mom. You know me."_

_"Of course I do, but…"_

_"I promise, Mom. If I run into any dangerous men out there, I'll run the other way as fast as I can, alright? But I really have to leave."_

_She lifted her suitcase and left the room, walked down the hall she had run through so many times as a child, and stepped out onto the porch where she used to play checkers for hours on end with her brother. A man waited for her outside, staring out into the desert as he had so many times before. She moved beside him and set the suitcase down to stare off into the rising sun, right alongside him._

_"So, you're really leaving us, are you?"_

_She paused a long moment and then nodded, never turning to look at him._

_"I'm glad. You need…no, you deserve better than this." He cracked a tiny smile and turned to kiss her on the nose, then walked away from her, never even saying goodbye. Meryl raised a hand blindly to her eyes and wiped away the tears before she picked up her suitcase and walked away from her childhood, disappearing into the horizon she had so often gazed upon wondering about a world she had never seen before. And now, she somehow belonged there._

.... .... x .... ....

Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she lay with her back to the fire, lost in a miasma of troubled dreams. Most were a mix of images of her past somehow molded into the visions of her parents and things she had done in her youth. Memories she didn't know she had filled her own, private dreamworld, giving rise to the pain of untold troubles.

She slowly tossed and turned as her dreams shifted to her career, and the girl she had met within three months of the beginning of her tenure at the Bernardeli Insurance Society.

.... .... x .... ....

_Meryl stood at her locker, reading a recent letter from home. Things weren't going well, but that was no surprise. Her father had been gone a lot recently, doing God-knows-what at God-knows-where. With a sigh, she folded the letter and shoved it into her locker. She slammed it shut, turned, and leaned against the cold metal._

_Her thoughts were interrupted a moment later by the faint sound of crying from the next room. She straightened her blouse and headed into the adjoined room to see the new girl reading a letter of her own, crying softly to herself over them. She leaned against the lockers and spoke softy: "Hey, are you all right? I'm Mer…" The big girl suddenly flung herself into Meryl's arms, swallowing her into a crushing embrace. "Whoa! Hey, it's okay."_

_The girl pulled back and nodded. "Oh, I just miss home. It seems so much has happened since I was there."_

_Meryl couldn't help but smile. The girl had only been here for three or four days, straight from home if she remembered correctly. "I know how that can be. But if you ever need to talk I'm here, okay?" She smiled and squeezed the girl's hand gently._

_"Really? Oh, you're so nice! I'm Milly, Milly Thompson! You're Meryl right?" She grinned brightly. "You're not as bitchy as the others said you were."_

_She gave Meryl her biggest, sweetest smile. Meryl couldn't help but smile back, though she was secretly plotting against her other co-workers. "Nice to meet you, too, Milly. And yes, I'm Meryl. Meryl Stryfe." She held out her hand for the girl to take but was sucked into another enormous hug…_

.... .... x .... ....

Meryl turned about in her sleep and yawned.

.... .... x .... ....

_"Milly, look at all these new reports. House destroyed, cause: Vash the Stampede. City decimated, cause: Vash the Stampede. Plant ruined, cause: Vash the Stampede. How can one man cause so much damage?" Meryl asked as she shuffled through file after file. All of them were in the file under Vash the Stampede._

_"Well, Meryl, he is the sixty billion double-dollar man," Milly replied. She raised her head from her pen and paper._

_"I'm tired of being in the office Milly. I think we need to take the boss up on his offer and take the assignment."_

_Milly gawked at her. "But Meryl, wouldn't that be dangerous?"_

_Meryl gave her a look and simply shrugged. "Well, yeah, but I'm dying of boredom sitting at this desk all the time. I didn't leave home to sit around reading reports all day. I'm more of a field worker, you know?"_

_"I guess. Me too."_

_"So you don't mind going with me?"_

_"Not at all. You've been my best friend for six months. I don't want you going off to do anything foolish without me."_

_Meryl grinned. "Well then, let's go tell the boss." She rose from her seat, and soon the memory was drowned in shadows, replaced by the void of sleep._

_For only a short time. Soon, Meryl was engulfed in a new series of images. She saw the man in red, the fool of a man who would do seemingly anything for a thrill. He was a nut job. Looking back, she had no idea just what she was getting herself into. She had a difficult time convincing herself that Vash was truly the feared outlaw that she and Milly had been sent to investigate. She was always yelling at him, knocking him upside the head and shouting demeaning names at him._

_She'd been wrong, terribly wrong about Vash the Stampede. Here she was now, typing out what was supposed to be a report for the insurance company about all the destruction and devastating deeds committed by the Humanoid Typhoon, but she couldn't find the words. Truth was, he wasn't at all like the man she had come out here to find. The way she looked at him had changed over her time with him, as the truth behind his way of life was revealed. In time, she even began to develop feelings for the Humanoid Typhoon._

_"Stop! You're hurting him!" Remembrance shifted to her racing heart. God, it hurt. She was running, she had to keep running toward the jeep racing her way, dragging Vash behind it along the desert floor. _Keep going! _her mind screamed. _You can't let it end like this! Not like this!__

_A man stood over Vash, firing repeatedly at him, demanding that he smile, to have the decency to die like a man. But Vash lay beneath him, a defeated soul with no real reason to go on living. They were right about him. He was Vash the Stampede, and no more than a killer. He had pulled the trigger on Legato. He was just like Knives._

_"Don't get defiant with me! I've heard enough of your crying! This is for everyone you've ever hurt!" The man fired at him several rounds, though he did not kill Vash. Not yet. Meryl ran, her heart hammering against her chest. "Now smile! At least you can have the decency to die like a man! Smile!" Vash lay there, taking his punishment like a rag doll, as if he had already given in, as though he were already dead. The scene broke Meryl's heart. The man with the gun glowered: "I said smile, damnit!"_

_"Stop it!" Meryl shouted. She got to his side, falling to her knees beside the man she had fought so hard to nurse to health, though he already acted dead inside. Violet eyes pleaded up to the man with the gun, aimed at Vash, her fallen friend and comrade. "Please, don't kill him! You don't understand…he fought to protect everyone. I beg you, please don't kill him. He just came here to heal; he wasn't going to hurt anyone."_

_"Get out of my way!" The man swiped out with his gun, knocking Meryl away from him, clearing a path for his bullet._

_Milly was at her side in an instant. "Meryl!"_

_The man glared at her. "Could a normal human being have done all of those horrible things? He had to be the one! Who else could've been responsible?"_

_"No! You're wrong!"_

_"Then tell me why! Why the hell did Steven have to die such a horrible death, huh?! Answer me!" The man started to break down. His voice wavered as a sob threatened to disarm him. "Answer me…"_

_Meryl sat there, unsure of what to do. She shot a sidelong glance at Vash. He hadn't moved. He was broken, but he was alive. She had to defend him, as he would have defended anyone else. Slowly, she rose to her feet. "I've…I've watched him for a long time so I know. It's true that he can't avoid fighting, but this man knows how to live. To live like a decent human being. Shooting him won't help anyone."_

_A shot echoed across the desert. Meryl flinched, but held her ground. "Don't feed me your garbage! We have the right to shoot this monster for everything he's done! We lost friends, families, neighbors, and even children! We should hate this bastard and now he deserves to die!"_

_Meryl turned her fearless gaze back to him. "But you're wrong," she whispered. This wasn't just about Vash anymore. Her heart spilled a thousand tears for every soul that had suffered in the wake of the nightmare that clung to him like shadow. _Wherever this man goes, he always leaves trouble behind him._ It was true, far more than she realized. "No one ever has the right to take the life of another person. No one. No one ever has the right to take the life of another. No one." She took a step forward. "And everyone. Everyone deserves a future."_

_She heard Vash move at her side. She heard him turn his gaze to her for the first time. Her heart sang for him. The dark spirits evaporated, and suddenly she knew she was in the right. "Oh, Rem," he whispered. There was that name again. But what did it mean? Who was this Rem that he held so near to his heart?_

_Her eyes shifted back to the man with the gun. It wavered, slipping back and forth from Vash to herself. "Don't you think it's true?" she asked, taking another step forward._

_"Wait…stay back! Didn't you hear me?! I said stay back!"_

_"Please," Meryl murmured. "Please, it's time to stop the fighting now."_

_She held her arms out at her side. Now she came forward in slow, intent strides. There would be no going back. She didn't want to go back._

_"Why…why are you doing that? Please get back!"_

_Meryl refused to stand down. Not now. "It's up to us to end the cycle of hatred. If we don't work to end the sorrow this time, then the cycle of pain will just continue on. When we were all born, were any of us made to steel or cause others harm?"_

_Slowly she held out a hand. She lay it on the man's sidearm, knowing without a doubt that he would not pull the trigger._

_And he didn't._

.... .... x .... ....

_Months later, she stood at the edge of the town where she and Milly had nursed Vash back to health, staring out at the vast desert. He hadn't come…it had been eight whole months and they still hadn't heard a peep from him, no sign that he was even still alive. Not so much as a rumor. She frowned and shook her head. The wind swept sand about her like a tunnel cloud as Milly came to her side, watching the horizon with her._

_"He'll come back, Meryl. It's just like you said, Vash would never leave you waiting."_

_"That's what I thought too," Meryl whispered, but she'd been waiting for far too long already. "And I actually believed it."_

_She couldn't reach him. She watched as the life drained from him and she couldn't help him. _God no…_ She struggled against the ropes that bound her in place but it was no use. She couldn't break free. The sounds of laughter filled her ears as she watched in horror as his life faded away._

_Tears threatened to blur him from her vision. She fought against them, desperate to see Vash one last time._

_"Don't cry. I'll always be with you…no matter what."_

_But then he fell silent and fell limp. Meryl screamed, muffled by the gag that covered her mouth._

_The sick, sinister laughter filled the night once more._

_A grisly face, a face she barely recognized, half-flesh and blood, half-mechanical, including a cybernetic eye. But it was the flesh and blood of his large, rounded face, with the big dimples and the twinkle in his real, human eye, that revealed the truth._

Father…

.... .... x .... ....

"No!" She sat up with a start, breathing heavily as tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Meryl?"

She gave Milly and Stryker a look through the flames and pushed herself to her feet. Slowly, the small woman turned and walked off into the desert, raising a hand towards her friend to tell her now was not the time she wanted or needed to be comforted. She pulled her hands back to her face and wiped the tears away before she folded her arms over her chest. She didn't stop for a long time, until the fire was only a dim glow in her gaze and the chill of the night was the only thing that surrounded her.

_Oh God, _she thought. _His face…_

It had been a terrifying glimpse into the future. She was certain of it. A future that stood only over a few more dunes, waiting for them. He was dying and she couldn't even help him. Worse over, her father was the one responsible. But what about his face? Where had that odd-looking device over his right eye come from? Some sort of lost technology?

It had to be.

_Oh God,_ she thought again, letting her tears fall to the ground as she stared off over the horizon, lost in her own silence.


	28. Chapter Twenty Four

TWENTY-FOUR: over and over

Vash sat in silence, staring up at the Fifth Moon as his heart pounded. He remembered Morgante the Warhead, remembered how his cruel smile had left Vash with the strangest feeling in his gut. He wondered, briefly, why he wore the metallic optic over his right eye, though he suspected Knives had something to do with that hideous attribute. He knew only that the man was Meryl's father, though she had apparently gained all of her finer characteristics from her mother.

Morgante was nothing like his daughter. He had been as cold and calculating as Knives in his duty. The brains of the Gung-Ho Guns, he probably was Knives' equal when it came to IQ. He first saw the man 24 years ago, during the July incident. Back then, he had been young and reckless, despite his intelligence.

Lost in his memories, Vash touched the shoulder of his prosthetic arm. He had lost the real arm then, at July, moments before Knives had forced him to use the angel arm for the first time. His brother had pulled a powerful handgun and fired, the shot literally tearing the arm from his body. He remembered only bits and pieces of the time following, though he knew for certain that he had fired the angel arm.

A world of pain had resulted from a trip that had been meant as a pilgrimage in the memory of the woman who had brought him up. Rem had a family member that had been brought across the stars on one of the SEEDS ships, a man who lived in the city of July. Believing he had finally uncovered his last connection to a woman he so desperately cared for, he had raced across Gunsmoke.

It was his last journey as an unmarked man.

He lost his arm and fired the angel arm, raining pain and despair on the people of July. He hadn't killed a soul, but eventually the people were forced to turn on themselves, desperate to survive. He had hurt so many people, and it had broken his spirit. He couldn't remember exactly all that had happened during that time, but he knew enough.

He was given the nickname Vash the Stampede, the man who could topple entire cities in a matter of seconds. After that incident, his reputation preceded him, and any damage done in his presence—and some without—was quickly deemed the responsibility of the vicious, irresponsible, bloodthirsty outlaw, who eventually built up a bounty of sixty billion double-dollars.

He was wronged. He knew it, but he had no say in the matter. Trouble followed him around like a lonely puppy desperate for attention. There was no escaping the name, no escaping the reputation, no escaping the humiliation. People thought he was brutal and coldhearted. There was no truth in the reputation, but people don't always care to believe in truth. They believed whatever they damn well pleased, whether they desired it or it scared them shitless.

Back at July, Vash could vaguely recall Morgante the Warhead snatching up his arm and disappearing with it into the night. The next time he saw his arm, it had been attached to the shoulder of another Gung-Ho Gun, the ruthless Legato Bluesummers. Now he knew exactly what had happened to it between the time he had lost it and the time it had replaced Legato's left arm. The whole injustice made him shake with anger.

The next and last time Vash encountered Morgante had been about six months ago. Then, he had been a drunk in a tavern who had accidentally sat down to have a drink with the Humanoid Typhoon himself. The memory was a bitter one, as Vash had recalled his rugged, scarred face, though a little older and wearier than he remembered, still carried the same hateful, grim expression. There was only one major difference: the whole right side of his face had been brutally scarred, apparently by some manner of explosion, and the right eye had been replaced by a cybernetic eyepiece.

He had learned Morgante's real name during that encounter, and he had carried it with him, wondering if he was somehow related to the woman who had been following Vash around for several years now.

He had decided it was his responsibility to figure out if the little woman, formerly a representative of the Bernardeli Insurance Society, was in fact the daughter of a ruthless, murderous member of the Gung-Ho Guns. In time, he had come to know, to understand. He knew what he had to do. He had to defend this world, the world that would not defend him, from the man who would destroy it because of him.

From the campsite, he heard a cry from the camp. A soft but unmistakable word drifted to him from the campsite. "No!"

He did not turn.

_Meryl._

A short time later, he heard her footsteps padding out over the desert. He turned to watch her, but didn't rise. Something in the way she walked told him she didn't want to talk about it. She would be coming his way if she really wanted company, but she wasn't coming his way.

Closing his eyes, Vash sighed. What was wrong now?

So many mistakes had marked his path, since the beginning of his life. He closed his eyes, wishing he could take so many of them back, but understanding the necessity of the lessons they taught. He had to defend himself from making those same mistakes over again; if he didn't learn from them, there would be no purpose for the lessons at all.

.... .... x .... ....

_"What the hell is wrong with you, Vash?"_

_Knives found his brother in Rem's study, cradling the broken stems in his arm, tears welling up in his eyes. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it."_

_"Vash, what…?" Knives stepped to his side and peered down to the shattered glass covered the floor. He suddenly understood the mass of red in Vash's hands. "That's Rem's geranium."_

_He brushed a long strand of silver-blond hair from his eyes, shaking his head. Rem's precious geranium. It was hopeless for the little plant now. The pedals were strewn about, and glass covered the floor in the crew lounge. There'd be no hiding this crime._

_"Wow, what a mess. What happened?"_

_"I was just looking. I wanted to touch it, but I slipped…" Vash clenched his eyes shut, tears pouring freely. Knives took a look at the stool next to his brother; the leg had apparently snapped beneath Vash's weight. "I fell down and dropped it. Honest, I didn't want to do it. I was just looking!"_

_Knives knelt at Vash's side. "She won't be mad," he said gently. "I don't think there's an angry gene in her entire genetic makeup." He lay a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Remember the rosebud tree? Just tell her what you told me. She'll forgive you, okay? I don't think there's anyone more forgiving."_

_"But Rem's flowers…"_

_"You didn't do it on purpose. She'll understand."_

_"She'll be sad," Vash whispered, gazing to the dead flower._

_Knives shook his head and sighed heavily. He turned to walk away. "You're hopeless, brother."_

.... .... x .... ....

Vash glanced back as Meryl walked deeper into the desert, further from the campsite. He started to worry a little. He didn't think it was such a good idea to wander so far from the camp.

He sighed, thinking back to the flower he had accidentally destroyed. As Knives had predicted, Rem hadn't yelled at him. She had hugged him and thanked him for his honesty. She had gently wiped his tears away with her thumb.

_You're such a baby! I told you, I could never be angry with you, Vash. There is purity in your heart and that makes me happy._

"Everybody makes mistakes," he whispered, remembering the advice of his beloved, fallen Rem Saverem. "A person's ability to accept the truth of mistake is just one fork in the road to understanding. You have so much to offer the world. One mistake isn't worth shutting away all those abilities."

.... .... x .... ....

_"You're hopeless, brother."_

_Vash stared at Knives with distrust. It had been several months since he'd decided he would never trust the killer again._

_Knives sighed. "Come on and eat. We have to build up our strength. I think we're going to have to do some digging."_

_"Digging?"_

_"Sure. A SEEDS ship crash-landed out here somewhere. You feel it, don't you?"_

_Vash closed his eyes and nodded. Of course he felt it. The plant was fully operational, and it was close._

_"What're we gonna do when we get there?"_

_"You'll see."_

.... .... x .... ....

Vash rose. He was through staring up at his past. What Knives had shown him that day, three years after the downfall of Project SEEDS and Rem's death, was one of the few blessings of their days together on this miserable world. Proof that there was a heart beating somewhere inside that iron chest.

He walked toward the figure on the horizon. Meryl had wandered a little too far out for comfort.

She stared off, hugging her arms to her chest and pulling herself together. It was a cool night, cooler than she remembered for some time. Back before anyone had been in pain, before any of this had ever happened. Back before she had worried at all about Vash the Stampede.

_I promise, Mom. If I run into any dangerous men out there, I'll run the other way as fast as I can, alright?_

She had never intended to keep that promise, breaking it for the first time when she had taken the assignment to locate and observe a man the likes of Vash the Stampede, and like an innocent child she had wanted to know more about him. Though Vash wasn't exactly the type of person her mother had feared, he was dangerous all the same. Now again she was breaking that promise, as she headed off to find a man who had promised her certain death. The same man who had told her to go off and make him proud time and time again.

_Who are you?_

She asked the question over and over again, but there was no answer for her. Not yet. Of all the things in life that Meryl had thought she would become a part of, this was never one of them. She didn't know who her father was, and at the same time she had thought so much of him for so long. Richard Stryfe, men like Legato Bluesummers and Midvalley Hornfreak and all the other Gung-Ho Guns? She didn't want to believe it, but she knew with all her heart that Vash had spoken the truth.

So many of the things she had done in her life had been for the one and only Richard Stryfe. She momentarily wished she had never left home, never done anything for the man she called her father. But then she might not have met Milly, and she certainly would never have known the man who occupied so much of her heart. When she thought about it, wondering at all that she had been through and was going through and would go through, she realized that given a second chance she would have done it all again.

Over and over again.

.... .... x .... ....

_"Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you, Meryl?"_

_"Daddy? Daddy, you're back!" A sixteen-year-old spitfire leapt into her father's arms, wrapping herself around his thick barrel of a neck. "You're not going to go away again, are you? Promise you won't!"_

_"Now Meryl, you know Daddy has work he must go off and do now and then, but don't I always come home and bring you back a trip every time?" He grinned and pulled out a small package from behind the pocket of his shirt._

_Meryl grinned and tore at the package, ripping the silver wrapping paper to shreds to get at the tiny box within. "Oh Daddy! It's beautiful!" She pulled a tiny, ivory cross from the box. She held it out for him to put on her._

_He smiled and made a twirling motion with his finger for her to turn around, and once she did he locked the chain into place around her neck. "Now you be careful with that for me, alright?" He spun her around for him to face her and placed a delicate kiss on her nose. "It holds the key to the entire world in it."_

.... .... x .... ....

He stopped a good ten paces behind her, gazing quietly, longingly. She seemed so deep in thought that he didn't want to interfere, but he also feared for her safety. She shouldn't wander so far from camp.

He took a few more steps before he opened his mouth to speak to her.

.... .... x .... ....

_"What is this place?" Vash asked his brother._

_"Yeah. It's different from the others."_

_"That's not what I said."_

_Knives smirked. "I know."_

_He slipped deeper into the corridor. Vash followed._

_"This is just a shuttle," Knives explained. "It must have lagged behind, because it's only been here a couple years."_

_"I don't think we're supposed to be here."_

_"Relax. We're the only ones here."_

_"That's what scares me, Knives."_

.... .... x .... ....

The thought of his mistake all those years ago ate at his conscience as he approached her.

"Hey, can we talk?" He came closer and went to rest his hands on her shoulders. A soft wind came upon them, enveloping them in its chilly touch, lifting his coat up a little. The world stood still as he watched the wind play with her long, flowing hair.

Meryl closed her eyes and sighed softly as she felt the gentle weight of his hands on her. "I think about it now and I wonder how I honestly couldn't have known," she admitted. "He was away all the time, so I never gave it a second thought."

He eyed her silently, wondering how much it must hurt.

"Mom used to be scared at every little thing I did. If I left the house, sometimes even if I played too close to the window. She used to say it wasn't safe. Now I understand why. She knew what he was. He was a danger to his entire family, and she was already too deeply involved with him to get out."

She sighed and turned her eyes up to his.

"How're you holding up?"

He slipped his arms around her waist. It was difficult for him to tell her the truth to that question, mostly because he didn't fully understand the emotions flowing through him. He had killed—no, he had executed—hundreds of his own brethren, yet he felt no guilt. He actually felt duress over his loss. It was as though he had been forgiven in every facet of the crime, and his heart understood.

He held her to him, thinking of the best way to put his answer. It came slowly as he carefully considered each word.

"I guess…better than I anticipated. It was easier than it should have been." He rested his chin on her shoulder, his face inches from her own as they gazed north, out over the blacked horizon to the dangers that awaited them. "They're in a better world now, a place where they will be cared for, where they'll never be used in some twisted man's tool of conquest."

Meryl was silent. He stood there, feeling the soft skin of her cheek against his own, as the memory of that his first passage through the SEEDS shuttle, 128 years ago, ran through him. He had seen the geo-plant then, had felt the life pulsating through the creature. Knives had wanted to destroy it, fearful of something that Vash couldn't see at the time. He had let it live, for Vash, for their species, though he had feared it was a mistake. Now, after all this time, Vash realized that the mistake had been his own.

"There are things you deserve, things that I want from life," he whispered, holding her close. "Things that apparently aren't meant to be."

By the way he held her, but the soft sound of his voice, she could sense the unspoken apology in his words. Soft lips ventured to her cheek, tempting her with their light touch.

_You don't get it, Vash,_ Knives had said. _Things happen that just can't be altered. When we make a mistake, we have to fess up and atone for our actions._

Knives words rang through him. They had been standing there, at the geo-plant, begging forgiveness for trapping the delicate creature on Gunsmoke.

And now they had come full circle, and the plant had died because of a mistake made so long ago, just like the geranium Vash had knocked from Rem's bookshelf that day over 131 years ago.

Meryl closed her eyes, and spoke softly after determining how best to respond. "I look out over the horizon, expecting to see death in so many of the faces waiting for me. But the image never comes." She turned around to face him and lifted her palm to trace the soft contour of his cheek. "All that I want, all that I ever wanted, is right here, holding me tight. It's all I need, Vash. Whatever waits for us out there, I'm ready. So many times we thought it was the end of our journey, and yet…we've always been wrong. Maybe this is the end, but then, maybe it's not. Maybe we shouldn't look at it as such." She turned her eyes to his and smiled. "We only have this moment to live in. No regrets. Not now, not ever. No matter what."

He listened to her, taking in her words like a thirsty sponge. He held her close to him, felt her melting into his embrace. He wanted so much more now than that simple kiss. That alone meant so much to him, that he could touch her in this way and know that she wanted it all and more.

Before Meryl, he'd been open to the ladies. He didn't hide the fact that he was eager to be commanded by beautiful women. But he'd never taken advantage of them.

_It's really too bad. It's not everyday that you get to sleep with a man like that._

He'd heard the girl's words in the sand steam, what, two or so years ago? He'd acted as though he was passed out, but he had heard it all. As enticing as the possibilities seemed, as much as he would have enjoyed the moment, he couldn't allow himself to take advantage of any woman, even if they were hired to please him.

He held Meryl to his chest and found that her heart tempted him so much more than any of those other women. Perhaps it was that they had been friends for some time now, or that they truly shared a bond that was stronger than death. Maybe it was both.

"No regrets," he whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her, bringing his lips to hers. The unspoken promise followed: that they would be together through it all, that he wouldn't let her die, that he wouldn't die on her. He would protect them all, including Milly and Sean.

And, of course, that he loved her.

"Meryl." He kissed her one last time, and slipped from her side. "If you're through here, can we head back to camp? It's too cold to stand out here in the desert. Besides, the others may get worried."

Meryl looked out over the horizon for another moment, silently wondering at the things she would never have in life. She would never have her family again. Her father was already lost to the wild rantings of a lunatic. He was a Gung-Ho Gun. She knew that if Vash did not pull the trigger, she would. That meant going against everything she had said over a year ago to save Vash's life, but she didn't care. This time was no different. She would once again be fighting to save Vash, but now she would be taking another, if it came to that point. Taking one life to save another…was that really wrong, when the one she was saving was innocent and the one she was taking was not?

Meryl wasn't sure anymore.

Now that Meryl knew her had known what her father was, that she had been lying through her teeth to protect her, she couldn't help but feel some regret for having left. She could never hate her mother for all that had happened, because she knew that her mother had done everything in her married life out of love for her family. Still, things would never be the same for Meryl. If her father somehow succeeded in his plans, she would forever have that guilt on her. She refused to accept that, now or ever.

Slowly, she turned back to Vash. "Yes, I'm done." She gazed up at him with hidden fire in her eyes. Their time would come, she knew. They just had to be patient, something that never came easy for two people in love.


	29. Chapter Twenty Five

TWENTY-FIVE: rem's song

The world sure had its share of difficulties. Vash held her close to his side as they headed back to camp, feeling the Fifth Moon hovering overhead like a bad memory. His life seemed to be spinning out of control, and even in death it seemed that Knives held the reigns. He wondered if his brother had found peace in the afterlife, if he had slipped into Eden, as they had promised Rem they would one day find it. It was difficult here, on Gunsmoke, but maybe in the world of the dead, it would be easier.

He sighed softly, letting Knives fade from his thoughts. Meryl had become the driving force of his thoughts. The light shade of the blue moon cast her in an eerie, wonderful light, giving her an angelic countenance. He had to smile at her He loved her reaction when he smile; she would blush and avert her eyes, trying to hide her own smile.

He didn't say anything. He felt that at the moment, no words could do his emotions justice. Not now, anyway. Not with these emotions.

As they approached the campfire, they found their friends sleeping against each other, Milly's head on Stryker's shoulder. It reminded them of the night of their bus ride with Nicholas D. Wolfwood thirty or so months ago.

Meryl had to smile as she wiped away a tear at the memory. "Come on Vash," she whispered. "Even you need sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us." She gave him a gentle hug and then pulled him to the spot where she had been sleeping before. He went obediently and sat next to her for a time, gazing into the firelight, letting the memories of the past spill through him once more.

He thought of his past: Rem, Knives, the crew of Project SEEDS…the city of July, the bounty on his head, the insurance girls, the priest…

In the end, those memories had become the basis of his heart. Everything about his life had been altered greatly with every fleeting moment. He stared at the night, and as a tear slid from his cheek, he found the song She had loved, the song She had taught him, and he began to softly sing:

_"So… On the first night, a pebble falls to the earth from somewhere.  
__So… On the second night, the pebble's children hold hands and sketch __a waltz.  
__Sound life…"_

He could almost picture Rem hovering over them, taking them gently in her arms as he let the words flow from his heart.

Meryl listened in silence as he sang, closing her eyes as she leaned against him, enjoying the warmth he offered. She was so comfortable. She raised a hand to wipe a tear from his eyes, the same emerald eyes that seemed to see everything there was to see. She listened until nearly the end when she joined him softly: "So… A song that has recorded everything echoes to a new sky. Sound life… Sound life…" She squeezed him gently before she found his hand and held it in her own, just over her heart.

"That was Rem's song," he whispered.

_Of course._ Before, she had had no idea of the song's importance to him, but she loved the song nonetheless.

"She used to sing it to me when I was very little. She called me a big baby." That brought a smile. Meryl could see the resemblance. "I think she'd still call me that sometimes. She does in my dreams. Anyway, that's how I first heard the song. Maybe it sounds dumb, but it's one of the few links that I have to her."

He sat up, looking at Meryl with his eyes shining.

"I'm glad you're here," he said. "I should have gone back for you. It's a mistake I can't take back, but I know you've forgiven me. If you hadn't, you wouldn't let me do this." He leaned forward and gave her a kiss.

It was a short kiss, filled with tenderness and pleasure. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Good night, Meryl."

"That's mean, Vash," she mumbled, but she had to smile. "Always were one to keep a girl waiting." She turned against him, nuzzling up to him as she drifted off to sleep, away from the dreams and nightmares of earlier.

They would haunt her no more this night.

He slid his prosthetic arm beneath her so that she could rest comfortably against his shoulder. He was glad to have her, glad that she was here. He closed his eyes, but he knew he wouldn't find rest. He wasn't tired. His side where his impostor had shot him not so long ago still ached something fierce, but it wasn't the pain that kept him up this night.

He needed her, desired her. Her soft breath against his neck alone was enough to make his heart race. He longed to do things to her that he'd never even considered doing in his life. Oh, he'd wondered about the pleasures between a man and a woman many times in his past, but this was the first time in his life he was actually fighting the urge to lay her down and explore her in ways he had never before dreamed. She felt like an extension to him now, a part of him that he had once lost, a part that had evolved into more than he could have hoped for or even imagine.

But yet, he held back. He thought maybe it wasn't his place. He didn't know squat about a true relationship. He knew he loved Meryl, but that didn't mean he knew what step came next. Her world lay before him, ripe for the taking. He wanted to take charge and explore it with his heart, body, and soul, but he also feared whatever consequences might lie beyond.

He wondered if Meryl knew. She was such a collected girl, always putting her best foot forward. Maybe she would know what came next.

It seemed every time he stepped beyond the boundaries of his world, another obstacle awaited him. First Knives, then the Gung-Ho Guns. Now Morgante the Warhead.

He sighed. Nothing in life was ever easy.

She stirred against him ever so slightly. Her eyes fluttered like one who was lost in the most pleasant of dreams. She sighed softly, her hands pulling him against her like she would never let go. "Love you, Vash," she murmured, and it sounded so damn clear and forward that it might seem she was still awake.

Which she was. It was hard to sleep now, after what had happened earlier when she was left to rest and now when she was so close to him she could breathe him in. It was hard for her to keep her breathing under control; she wasn't sure how to behave or act and she wasn't at all sure that Vash wouldn't think her crazy no matter how she acted.

She loved being so close to him, to hold him close to her and know he was there, and even as the fire seemed to dim her thoughts turned elsewhere from the cold dark nights, and thoughts of what Milly had only spoke of even now caused a blush to darken her pale cheeks.

Love had an odd way about it. It wrapped her up in all its glory and lifted her toward the gates of Heaven. Here, in his arms, she had discovered that the power of Heaven descended from he stars and soaked the people of the world in the very love of God. That He would give her so perfect a gift as a man like Vash was nothing short of astonishing. There wasn't a whole hell of a lot that wasn't astonishing about Him. Maybe that's one of the reasons Wolfwood had chosen his profession.

There was a lot about Vash she had yet to know. He'd share it all one day, she was certain. She trusted him.

Vash stared to the stars, pondering over another, urgent problem. The world above him seemed so strange, so distant. He had been there before, in a place that Meryl and Milly and Stryker would never be able to visit. Space was an untouchable world in this day. Somewhere out there, a ship lay in the desert, a ship someone had used to come to Gunsmoke. They were human, and now, according to Meryl, they were after him.

He groaned. Another of life's little challenges. Was this going to get somebody hurt like the rest of them? There were no "little" challenges for Vash the Stampede. Hell, a simple kiss had taken all the courage in the world.

"Sleep Vash. The world will still be here in the morning." He glanced down to her. Twin violet orbs gazed up to him in wonder. She had a strange new look in her eyes. She wasn't simply Meryl anymore. She was different somehow, wiser and stronger, more capable then the girl he had known a year ago. She was no longer Daddy's little girl, in more ways then one. Meryl had done more growing up in her time with Vash then she had ever done in the whole of her childhood. Did her father even know that? Did he even care?

She curled ever closer to him, her hair tickling at his neck and jaw line. "I'll still be here when you wake," she murmured. "I promise."

He smiled at that, his thoughts returning to the moment at hand. Or, more accurately, the girl in his arms. The road didn't seem all that dark with her to light her way. The burden wasn't all that heavy with her to share the load. He thanked her silently with a gentle squeeze.

But there was too much on his mind.

He wondered how Milly could possibly handle the situations that he could not, and he found himself chuckling silently to realize that everyone the big girl ever met probably shared the same question. She was a special girl. Whoever wound up with her was going to be a lucky man.

Maybe Stryker? With the way they were laying together now, keeping each other warm, he wouldn't be surprised. He smiled. That was a happy thought he could end his night with. He closed his eyes.

But still, he couldn't sleep.

After a few moments, she followed his gaze, and knew instantly what he was thinking. She wondered it to, musing to herself at a game she and her one childhood playmate had once dreamed over. She shook her head and turned back to watch him. It was odd to see him so serious, strange and yet deliciously new and almost dangerous. She propped himself up on her elbow, certain there would be no sleep for her this night.

Not yet.

A shooting star split the sky between two of Gunsmoke's moons. Vash watched for a long moment and made a silent wish. Part of that wish had already come true. The second part involved family and happiness that would stretch throughout his life. Throughout _their _lives. He glanced to Meryl to see if she had spotted the faint, blue-green streak of light, and he knew by the small, wondrous smile that she had.

"Can't sleep?"

She shook her head lightly at the question.

"Me either." His eyes shimmered in the firelight, brilliant emerald pools, full of life. They watched her for a moment, drinking in the simple beauty of her features. She was so gorgeous. He closed his eyes. How could he have missed it in the past? She hadn't been quite this beautiful when he had first met her, but now she made the brightest stars fade in his eyes. He smiled down at her.

Rem hadn't said anything about a perfect moment lasting so long.

Meryl stared up at him, lost in the intensity of his eyes. They never seemed to sparkle so much, or capture so much of the light in them. It took her breath away and caused her heart to race. "You never cease to amaze me, Vash," she whispered, pausing to look down as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. It was a remarkable feeling that came over her when she was with him and she couldn't rightly describe it. But it made Meryl feel complete. Like she belonged, which was something she hadn't felt in such a long time.

He put his face very close to hers, a lustful spark in his eyes, and smiled. He wanted just to be close to her, just to have that opportunity in which life felt so full and pure. He felt it close even now, pressing against him in an engulfing embrace that shook him to the core. A world of emotion spilled from his heart. He felt as though he needed to cry, but just seeing the smile on her face was enough to hold back that flood.

"Oh, Meryl."

She smiled and leaned up so that she could kiss him softly on the nose. It was a playful gesture, but it caused sparks to shiver all the way up her spine. It made her laugh at the memory of how mad she would get when her parents behaved the same way. They had truly cared for each other, at least, for awhile.

But nowhere near the extent she cared for Vash, and he for her.

He smiled and ran his free hand slowly down her side. He was eager for more than that simple, playful kiss. His hand trailed to her hip as he started to turn toward her. The feel of her was enough to make him tremble, the warmth of her curves sliding in his hands through the fabric of her blouse and jeans.

And then he stopped. _This is crazy. What am I doing?_

He removed his hand from her hip and rested it on the ground between them. He still placed his lips to her, drawing strength from her very breath, but it would be no more than a kiss. He knew better than that; now just wasn't the right time.

He slipped his prosthetic limb from beneath her, Meryl twisting her torso so he could free his arm, so he could adjust to reach her lips easier. Her violet eyes sparkled back up at his as if she could see the very soul that was beneath the red coat. She reached up with a hand and gently caressed the side of his face before she guided him back to her.

She loved the fee of his hands on her; it made her feel so young and vibrant. The blush that had flared on her cheek was caused by so much more than mere schoolgirl innocence. That did play a part in it, but there was also a gentle eagerness that clawed at her as she draped his arm around her neck and gently caressed his face with her other hand, much as a mother would an infant.

He cherished the taste of her as he covered the delicate flesh of her face with the gentlest of kisses. The smooth movement of her body arching toward him drew him back to her, and he let his hand travel back to the curve of her hip. Eyes closed, he drowned himself in her love.

The moment was sensual and perfect. The feel of her slender frame against him lit a passionate fire that coursed through his body and soul It was a sensation he had never before experienced, but one that he treasured. He longed that this moment would never end as he feasted on her lips with a hunger that stole his breath away. Here, Meryl felt safe, trapped in the shelter of his arms. She felt wanted, lost in his gentle caress. Here she felt loved. By every word, spoken or not, by every touch that was shared, by every look that was passed, this was where she belonged, in this man's arms forever.

Vash had never known love. Rem had prepared him as best she could for the moment, but she could never be here now to tell him if he were handling the situation right. He could only go by his instincts. That Meryl didn't push him away, that she returned his love with a similar passion, was enough to tell him that he wasn't hurting her, and that he didn't want him to part from her. It was a wondrous feeling he couldn't even have imagined before Meryl.

He felt the heat of her burning through her garments. Oxygen slowly replaced the carbon dioxide in his lung with low, rough breaths. He gazed to her with tears glistening in his eyes. "Meryl," he sighed. He slid from her. There could be no more in that moment, hat delicate touch through the fabric of their clothes. No more. He turned to her, letting his eyes trail the length of her body, and his breath caught in his throat.

He wanted her, now and forever, and she wanted him. At the same time, both knew that moment could never last forever. Meryl's blood was still boiling in her veins, rushing like currents through her entire body, giving off a sensuous heat that gave her an almost angelic glow. Her breaths still came far too fast and short, racing as the moment slowly began to catch up with her. Her cheeks were flushed, and even her eyes seemed to scream out in frustration as he pulled away.

That was only the beginning. If only a glimpse left her reaching she almost dreaded what the future had to hold. They definitely had their own powerful reaction to one another, both when they were close and when they were apart. Every brief moment left her breathless and thirsty for more. She stared up at him, eyes nothing more than hazy slits that called out for him. Her breath eventually began to slow and her heartbeat grew to a steady, even pulse. She was lost and it seemed that only Vash knew how to find her.

As far as she was concerned, that was all right.

"Vash," she managed in a hoarse whisper, still choked from what she had experienced only a brief moment ago.

He gazed back at her, an almost stunned look on his face. He reached out and stroked her cheek, a look of longing clinging to his eyes. He found that he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He wanted her so badly, but this was neither the time nor the place. They would have time, but first they had to survive her father.

Vash grimaced at the thought. He had been under the impression that surviving the father was supposed to be just getting by without making yourself look like a total idiot. Unfortunately, in this case, surviving the father would be far more literal. He would have to protect Meryl while at the same time avoiding death himself.

He reached out and touched her cheek. "I really want this to happen."

She sat up, nodding, wrapping herself around him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, needing simply to be at his side, and then she would be fine. The moment had come and gone and left them in its wake, feeling frazzled and wondrously frumpled. Life had opened their eyes to something they had never dared dream of experiencing in their existence. There, in the comfort of Vash's arms, Meryl could find peace enough to slumber. There, she could find her dreams, hopes, and there she could face her fears.

The world really didn't look so bad from here.

Really, it was starting to look pretty good.

.... .... x .... ....

_The world was shaken by the distant sound of thunder. Stirred from the realm of dreams, Vash peered about. The fire was gone, squelched by the lack of fuel. He groaned and forced himself into a sitting position, careful not to disturb Meryl. He sighed heavily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Stryker and Milly still lay together on the other side of the dead campfire._

_It was eerily dark for what should have been midmorning, and the usually crystal blue skies had faded to a dull blue-gray. He stared numbly at the sky, as if trying to contemplate the nature of the occurrence. The gunman yawned, never taking his green eyes from the sky._

_Something rumbled in the distance. He realized the sound that had so rudely stirred him from his peaceful slumber was growing steadily louder. He was tired, mainly because he had barely slept a wink through the entire night. With a yawn, the Humanoid Typhoon let his eyes slowly circle the area about the dead campfire. To the west, the horizon met the sky in a messy blur. He frowned._

_The sound seemed to be a constant drone, similar to the sound of rolling thunder, the volume steadily increasing. The thought of something rapidly approaching brought the gunman suddenly to his feet._

_Sandstorm!_

_"Wake up!" he shouted, but his words were drowned by the thunderous sound as a wall of the wind and sand slamming into him, bringing pain and destruction in its wake._

.... .... x .... ....

Vash rose in a rush, gasping for breath. Sweat trickled down his face as he peered into the darkness. It was still hours before sunup, despite the feeling of midmorning when he believed he had been stirred from sleep. Meryl slept peacefully at his side, undisturbed by his sudden movement. Milly and Stryker, as in his dream, still leaned into one another for warmth. They looked so comfortable.

He wondered how the two could possibly sleep through the excitement of the night, but then he remembered just the type of woman Milly was. She could sleep through the end of the world, if it were to happen.

He drew a deep breath, rubbing his sore side, wondering how he could have possibly found sleep through the pain. He could dimly remember that there had been no pain, thanks to the tenderness Meryl had offered him in the night. He reached out gently and slid the hair from Meryl's face, gazing to her face, cast in the dim blue glow of the light of the Fifth Moon.

He sighed and stretched, peering out over the desert.

He had enjoyed a peaceful sleep. He felt refreshed. Through it all, he had experienced only deep serenity. Until the end, when he was awakened by a restless dream regarding a powerful storm. He didn't fully understand what his mind was trying to tell him, but he had an odd feeling that it could only mean bad things.

He took a canteen from the collection of baggage by the fire and enjoyed a revitalizing drop of cool, clear water.

_Vash…_

A woman's voice invaded his thoughts, a voice as clear and eloquent as any he had ever heard, as if she were standing here, right beside him. But he knew she was not there. He shot a look to Meryl. A vivid image crossed his mind: a young woman, tall and slender and athletic, in a blood-red jumpsuit, a long, golden braid draped over her left shoulder. Piercing emerald eyes slid open and locked intently on his own.

_Vash the Stampede. I'm waiting._

He stumbled away from the fire, dropping the canteen. The last droplets of water spilled onto the desert floor as he stared into the roaring flames.

_Who are you? _he asked the voice, offering no more than his thoughts.

The telepathic answer was immediate and sinister. _If you truly wish to know, he will come to me. I may be inclined to tell you._

Vash lowered his eyes.

A drone of telepathic laughter filled his thoughts._ Come to me, Vash, and I will answer your questions. That much I can promise you._

Vash lowered his eyes toward the girl sleeping at his feet. Meryl didn't even move, never heard the dangerous telepathic conversation. Of course she didn't. _She_ didn't have the ability. This strange woman, wherever she was, did. Clenching his fists, the Humanoid Typhoon started out toward the desolate land north of the makeshift campsite.

"I'm coming."


	30. Chapter Twenty Six

TWENTY-SIX: trap

_"Meryl! Meryl, come inside this instant! It's dangerous out there!" Her mother half-walked, half-ran out to her, her eyes darting sporadically toward the approaching storm. Meryl wasn't listening, of course. She rarely did anything she did not care to do. The twelve-year-old stood out in the front yard, defiant, staring up to the wall of wind and sand racing toward her._

_Meryl was invincible. Her father had told her so. She had decided to face this challenge head-on._

_It seemed like hours until she was awake, her mother staring down at her with sad, worried eyes. She blinked, scarcely recognizing where she was at, only knowing she was alive and that her arm ached fiercely. She tried to cradle it to her chest, but she couldn't move._

_"Oh, Meryl…you could've died. Why can't you just listen to me for once in your life?" Her mother shed tears for her, grateful that she had somehow managed to maintain Meryl for one more precious day._

_"It seems my little princess is awake," Richard said as he stood in the doorway. "Meryl, you worried your mother. You must promise never to disobey her ever again. I know you would never disobey me, but your mother loves you as much as I do. It would break her heart to loose you. It broke her heart enough to see you injured."_

_Meryl swallowed and nodded meekly. "I'm sorry."_

_He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss on the nose. "You were very brave, Meryl," he said gently. "But sandstorms don't care if you're brave or scared out of your wits. Either way, dead is dead."_

* * *

Milly pushed herself to a sitting position, peering about the campsite. The sun had risen, and the sky was as brilliant and blue as she could remember. She saw Stryker's arm draped over her and flushed with embarrassment. Removing it from her shoulder, she glanced to Meryl, who lay across the fire, alone.

"Hey."

Milly jumped. "Mr. Stryker. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I've been awake."

"Oh? Where is Mr. Vash."

"He left. He must have gone a walk. He was gone before I woke up." He held up a silver magnum, his eyes watching her reaction. "Wherever he is, he's not armed with this."

"Oh no! Mr. Vash's gun!"

From her spot across the campsite, Meryl stirred. They could see her peering at them over the blackened pit where the night's fire had dwindled. She groaned softly as she lifted herself to her feet, rolling her back and stretching toward the sky. She yawned, rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes.

She seemed to notice in that moment that their camp was missing one of it own. Vash was nowhere to be seen. She felt a panic come over her, and turned to see her friends watching her.

"Where's Vash?" she asked under her breath.

Stryker rose to his feet. "He disappeared." He held up the angel arm gun, and her face paled. "It's all right. I'm sure of it. Vash'll be fine."

Meryl rushed over to them and lifted the weapon from Stryker's hand. It was awfully heavy; Meryl remembered why she carried all those derringers around. She couldn't think of a single reason that Vash would wander off like that. In the past, it was a frequent hobby of his, loosing the girls whenever they turned away, but now she couldn't see why. Her father had threatened their lives, her life; she didn't think Vash would just leave her like this. It didn't make a hell of a lot of sense.

She finally looked back to Stryker and somehow managed to think of a question to ask. "No tracks?"

"Don't see any. There was just enough wind over the night to cover them up."

"With or without Vash, we need to keep going. We're sitting ducks right here."

"But Meryl, do we even know where we're going?" Milly asked, no doubt worried over the prospect of just leaving. She gazed out over the barren landscape, searching for a sign, any sign that might reveal the location of the Humanoid Typhoon. The big girl whimpered a little at the fearful thoughts trickling through her. Vash was gone, and nobody could offer a reasonable explanation as to where or why. "What if Vash doesn't want us to go on?"

"I don't know Milly, but I doubt he wants us out here in the open. We need to find some sort of shelter at least. We can continue in the direction we were headed. It's all I can think of to do."

Stryker gazed to the north, in the direction they had been traveling, and made a decision. Without a word, he began the trek that way. He didn't know where Vash was, but that didn't matter. He felt something strong pulling at him, driving him toward a mysterious world where he'd never been before. He only hoped he could help the girls along the way.

Meryl turned and watched Stryker take the first steps of the journey without Vash, and then helped Milly to gather up their things and follow him. She held Vash's magnum tightly as she walked, inspecting it along the way.

She couldn't help but notice Milly's face, set with her most serious look, determined to help as best she could.

"We're coming, Mr. Vash," she murmured. "Soon, we promise."

* * *

He was sore, but he supposed he was lucky to be alive at all. Shifting into a seated position, he rubbed his neck where he had landed in his fall from the top of a dune. Blood-soaked fingers came away from where the bullet had nicked him. He then peered about, searching for whoever had shot him, but he didn't recognize his position. He knew only the heat of midmorning as he rose uneasily from the seat of his pants. Peering about, he saw only desert for as far as the eye could see.

He was alone.

He held cradled his arm near his stomach as a sharp pain, as intense as any he had suffered for quite some time, stabbed at his innards. He remembered the Vash impostor from two nights ago, the one who had shot him in the right side, and knew his pains came from the aftereffects of that battle.

He hoped the others were all right.

_Nice bit of work with Meryl, Needle Noggin'. I'm proud of you._

Vash spun to the shadows. "Wolfwood?"

But what he heard was no more than a thought drifting to him from a gentle breeze.

_You know you're going the wrong way. Morgante's not to the north. That's what he wants you to think._

"What do you mean?"

_You're walking into a trap, Needle Noggin'. You have to go back south._

"A trap."

_Go find them. Hurry, before it's too late._

Vash clenched his fists and nodded.

_And good luck, Vash the Stampede._

* * *

Meryl continued trudging along, her feet heavy, her knees nearly ready to buckle beneath her. She kept clutching the cross around her neck, running a finger along the grooves of the stem. _It holds the key to the entire world in it._ She kept going over the words in her mind.

"Stryker, maybe we should stop for a rest," she said softly.

Milly wiped the thick layer of sweat from her forehead. Meryl felt sorry for the girl, wearing that huge overcoat all this time. "Meryl's right," she said, her soft voice teetering somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. "It's so hot…"

She sunk to her knees in the sand, exhausted.

Stryker paused, glancing back. He nodded. "Okay. We can stop."

Meryl slid to Milly's side, rubbing her throbbing knees. She raised a hand to her head to wipe away the sweat that poured from her temple. It felt so good to rest a moment, even though they had been walking for hours with no sign of Vash or any other life to lift her spirits. She worried that maybe they had gone too far for Vash, that maybe he was lost somewhere in the opposite direction. Would they ever find him again?

Stryker sat in the sand next to them, handing out his canteen, still full somehow. Meryl realized it was because he wasn't drinking. She accepted the water without protest, seeing to it that Milly had the first swig.

The Vash duplicate peered about, uneasy. No doubt something trying lay in their path, possibly very close, and his thoughts were torn between it and the girls' safety. He didn't want to see what dangers lay in their wake, dangers no doubt meant for Vash the Stampede, but he would face them anyway because he had earned a place among them. He refused to turn his back on the trio now, not when they had turned to him and extended their hands in friendship.

"I don't feel like I could move another step," Meryl whispered, rubbing her sore knees. It hurt worse just to sit and rest then it had before they had stopped.

Milly leaned against her friend. One hand crushed her friend's fingers in a death-grip as tearful eyes gazed to the desert around them. She gazed to the north with a quivering lip. "Do you think he went that way?" She watched Meryl, heartbroken.

"I've sure of it," Meryl lied, almost too quickly. She didn't want to admit to Milly that she wasn't at all sure where their friend had gone, or if he was even alive. Or maybe she simply didn't want to admit that to herself. "I bet he's doing just fine. He's waiting for us right now." She looked to the northern horizon and sighed heavily.

"I hope you're right, Meryl."

"Me too, Milly. Me too."

Meryl shook her head, shaking away those terrible thoughts. "We should get moving. We still have a long way to go."

Just as she started to rise, Stryker grabbed her wrist.

"Wait."

Meryl turned her attention to him, and then followed his line of sight to a spot on the northern horizon. Where earth met the sky in a hazy mirage, she saw a flicker of light. Her heart nearly stopped as she realized what she was seeing. One thought came to her mind: this was the same way they had met Wolfwood more than two years ago.

Wolfwood had been a wandering priest who arrived by the glint of the suns, much like God had placed him there at that very moment for them to find, or for him to find them. A priest who had done so much wrong, that had in the end righted so much, only to die for that very reason. Because he had reformed.

Meryl wasn't sure what this new glint could be, but it felt somehow like a small ray of hope. Or was it that falling star of the night before, laying wake to the evident approaching danger. _The world is in its misery whilst I myself sweep,_ she thought, remembering the old line fondly.

Milly trembled as though her heart had been snagged between the jaws of death, the life slowly draining from her soul. She clung to Meryl with tears pouring down her face as the thought of Wolfwood submerged her. Nicholas D. Wolfwood, the priest with a dark side, had given Milly the very best of his heart in the brief time he had been with her.

And then they had stolen him away.

While many might have thought Milly not strong enough to survive, she cherished in proving to the world just the joy that encompassed her soul. Wolfwood had taken a piece of that joy with him to the underworld, but it had eventually returned to her in her memories of the priest and the unexpected gifts that had rained down on her from their private moments together.

Milly swallowed and prayed that everything would turn out all right.

* * *

He sensed the attack before it came, in the quiet rush of the air around him as his enemy fell to him from the heavens, but for one of the few times in his life, Vash the Stampede was slow. The bullet came in from behind, ripping through his left arm, the prosthetic arm. He felt the pull of the shot, but that was all as his prosthetic limb did not register pain.

_Come on, Needle Noggin'! Get your ass in gear! When are you going to learn that the most challenging things in life aren't going to come right at you?_

True enough. Knives hadn't. Legato hadn't. The Gung-Ho Guns prided themselves on being the sneaky villains of this world. He couldn't think of any of them that had come straight at him. At least, not without a plan.

There was always an obstacle, or a distraction. And then, Vash would suffer. It seemed the world could not operate without extracting some sort of payment from the Humanoid Typhoon.

Vash spun and reached for his sidearm.

Then he gasped as he realized that his gun wasn't there. "Damn!" He looked up, wide-eyed, searching for his attacker.

Whoever had fired on him was nowhere to be seen.

"You really aren't very bright, are you?"

Vash's eyes widened. A woman.

A gunshot echoed in his ear. He spun right, just avoiding the shot as it tore through his coat and kicked sand into the air just beyond. He leapt out of the way of a second shot, allowing his hidden gun to activate. He took aim, spotting the blur of red where the shot had come from, and squeezed the trigger.

He fired only six shots, and then several soft, repetitive clicks, indicating the chamber was empty. A third shot brushed his left side, knocking him flat.

"Is that all? I expected more of a challenge."

Vash's eyes widened. He saw the blood-red leather of the woman's boots as he stood over him. He trailed the length of her slender leg up to a tone thigh, beyond a firm torso to the hateful smirk beyond. Staring down at him were twin emerald pools.

"I was getting tired of waiting," she said nonchalantly. "No matter. We're both ready now."

"Ready for what?" Vash asked. The boot came up suddenly and connecting firmly against his jaw, a smooth and easy motion that would have broken the jaw of most men. Vash was not most men, luckily. He simply fell back and landing hard on his back.

"For your execution, silly," the woman said, stroking a long, blonde braid that fell over her left shoulder. Her sinister grin widened, revealing flawless teeth. "What else would we have planned for the infamous Vash the Stampede?"

"Who are you?"

"Does it really matter. You're about to die either way."

The glint of her silver handgun stretched out across the desert as she took aim.

Vash was slowed by the bullet wound in his left leg, given to him by the man he had faced back in the shuttle before Stryker had joined his party, and it was only a matter of time before he slipped and fell to her mercy. While he had avoided most of her ruthless gunfire—_damn, she's fast…faster than me_—he couldn't avoid it all, and soon a single shot tore through his left ankle and he dropped like a rock before her.

"Nice. You're not so graceful as they say, ya know?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm not."

She smirked. "Easy now, hun." She slowly approached, reloading her weapon. She lifted the gun, taking careful aim. "It'll only be a sec."

Before she could squeeze the trigger, a large, white blur crashed into her. The woman screamed. Vash felt the exhaustion overcoming him as he tried to understand what he was seeing. The big white blur crashed furiously into her, over and over again as it tried to overcome the speed of the woman. Several shots were fired, but never once did Vash hear anything from the blur other then a furious snarl.

A dog? It had to be, a big, menacing dog, come to the rescue.

What dog would risk its life for him?

The truth of the matter was, he didn't care. He was only grateful for the extra moment he needed. As she finally overpowered the big dog and tossed it effortlessly away from her, the blonde in red saw as his hand fumbled in his pockets. A small box, a magazine filled with the bullets for his hidden gun…

Her eyes went from him to the gun she'd dropped. She'd never get there in time, and they both knew it.

She took a few steps back. "This isn't over, Vash."

"Good to hear. I thought as much."

She smirked. "You're good, no doubt about it. But a lot of it is that bullshit luck of yours."

He had to smile back. "I know."

"Until next we meet," she said, and turned to walked away.

Vash closed his eyes and leaned back to rest. Moments later, a wet nose nudged his hand, and he glanced up to see a twin red pools staring at him. The white dog sat down in front of him.

He smiled. "Thank you," he whispered.

Just the presence of the large beast comforted him.

* * *

_Vash!_ Meryl had never run so hard in her life, pain exploding along her sides and in her chest. Her body demanded air, but she refused to stop…not until she knew. _Keep going, Meryl. You're almost there._ Her footsteps hit the sand hard, digging into the grains and kicking them up behind her. The long, white cape swept up behind her as she pressed up the sandy hill.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the red mess sprayed across the desert floor like a crimson carpet meant for royalty. She dropped to her knees next to them, ignoring the pain that exploded in her legs as she hit the sand. The air stung her lungs as she fought desperately to regain her bearings. She was no help to him like this, and he needed help.

"Vash…" Her eyes burned from the acrid air that ruthlessly attacked her senses. She pulled her necktie loose and leaned over him, inspecting his injured ankle. She wasn't a doctor, but it looked like he was loosing a lot of blood. "I'm here, Vash. Hold still. We're here for you."

She slipped the necktie around his ankle and tied it tightly, putting as much pressure on it as she possibly could to stop the bleeding. Somehow she managed to keep calm, her face expressionless as she did her best to examine his wounds.

Milly flung herself into the sand beside Meryl and began to examine him. Blood soaked his coat on the right side, and they both knew that he had reopened the gunshot wound just two days ago. Stryker hovered over them with a dark look on his face. He looked about, but the assassin was long gone. He was sure he had seen something, but what, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, Mr. Vash," Milly whispered. She put a lot of force on his bleeding ankle, causing him to cry out in pain. Meryl grimaced. "He's gonna be okay, Meryl."

She nodded. "Thank God."

Vash twisted and turned, in obvious pain, and Meryl thought for an instant that, by the look in his eyes, that he had been lost to the torture of his dreams.

* * *

_"Good morning Vash. I hope you slept well."_

_"I did Rem. Thank you." The boy plodded over to her and sat down at her side. Other than the two of them, the recreation room was entirely empty. This early, most of the crew would still be in bed, but Vash seemed to know whenever Rem was here, and almost without fail he found himself next to her. It was as though she called to him, beckoning him toward a life of prosperity and happiness. "What about you, Rem? Are you okay?"_

_"I'm fine Vash." She smiled. She glistened with perspiration, and the flicker of the room's digital sun cast an almost angelic glow from her high cheekbones and whimsical smile. Her smile seemed less natural today, and by the haze in her eyes Vash could tell that something was bothering her. He said nothing, but he didn't understand the suffering on her beautiful face. All that he knew was that for the first time since his birth, the woman he cared so deeply for had actually lied to him._

_"You're up early."_

_Rem smiled. "I could say the same of you, Vash. Why are you up at this hour?"_

_"Couldn't sleep." He didn't say that it was because he had heard her tears from his bed as she raced away from her quarters to escape the cold, hard loneliness of the ship to the quiet peacefulness of the recreation room. He had risen and dressed for the sole purpose of checking on her, and here she was, on the verge of tears but smiling for him nonetheless. It was a painful sight in itself, to see Rem cry. Vash swallowed and then fell into her. She drew him tightly into her embrace._

_Rem wiped her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. Her smile came easier now._

_"Of Vash. You're such a baby."_

_He clung to her, tears glistening in his eyes for her pain. "I'm here for you, Rem. If you ever need me, I'm here. You know I am."_

_"Vash…"_

* * *

Vash's eyes slid open, and he stared up to the woman he loved.

"Meryl."

They closed again. He breathed easy, and another vision wedged its way into his mind.

* * *

_"Vash!"_

_The gunman spun at the sound of his name crashing through the still air. His gun came free as he spun toward the girl that cried for him, taking aim at the man who held her. He held her against him, his gun pressed against her temple._

_"Meryl!" Vash cried, his eyes wide with fear._

_Wolfwood cracked a tiny, fearless smile, and squeezed the trigger. Meryl's head exploded in a shower of blood, bone, and brains._

_"Nooo!"_

_Another gunshot echoed through the night, and Nicholas D. Wolfwood soon followed her to the sand._

* * *

"_Nooo!_"

Vash twisted and turned there in the sand, fighting his fears as they threatened to overcome him. Vast terrors had been unleashed inside him, to wrench him away from the people he loved so that they could be tortured within his soul. Wolfwood had been taken from the tree of life, no less than executed by Legato Bluesummers through the hands of Chapel the Evergreen.

His eyes suddenly widened as the visage of the bullet exploded through Meryl's skull returned to him. He saw it repeatedly, in slow motion, and it was the worst kind of hell. Pure terror raced through him with every heartbeat. It was the kind of nightmare that could only be eased with a gun, or a hangman's noose. Vash longed for death.

Tears poured from his cheek.

"Meryl." He felt that she was near, though he couldn't quite see her.

He trembled, something Vash never did without good reason.

Tears of pain christened the ground where he lay.


	31. Chapter Twenty Seven

TWENTY-SEVEN: demons

There was something to be said of this world on the subject of demons. Though they might not exist in the reality of time and space, inside the mind of a lover, friend, or family, they caused the most severe kinds of pain. The pain of self-doubt or pity, fears that eat away at the heart and soul.

Just as they were appearing within Meryl now, while she watched Vash turn about in a fitful slumber. No, not slumber. He wasn't asleep, yet at the same time, he wasn't fully awake, either. Hallucinations filled his mind, and Meryl knew they were painful and frightening simply by the way he moved, by the occasional cries and shouts and sudden intakes of breath while he was placed into some form of hell that he couldn't escape.

He called out, opening his eyes to look at her. She wasn't sure if he had really seen her or made focus on her image, but she knew that in the least it had caused him some momentary ease. Tension crept along in him as he drifted from the world, leaving Meryl to fret over his sudden ill-ease.

_What Demons haunt your dreams, Vash?_

She watched over him like a mother would for a sick child. Her senses were firmly tuned to the world around them. She looked to Milly with a pained expression, but he called again for her softly.

This time, the word sounded as though it pained him even to speak it. Shock filled her soul as tears flowed down the soft contours of his cheeks. She gently reached up, wiping the streaks away though more followed. Her hand was soon damp with his tears. Tears he cried for his pain, because of her.

"I'm still here, Vash. I won't leave you. I'm _still _here." Her hand slipped down along his arm, gently squeezing his fingers when she found them. "I'm _still_ here. And I won't leave you. I'll never leave you."

Terrible visions plagued her mind and she closed her eyes on the horrible pain that crept over her features. Somehow she had known those blissful moments of yesterday and the day before had been a mistake. She had been willing to take that risk with her heart to be with this man through it all, in life, death, and sacrifice, but she hadn't wanted this. She chosen the sacrifice to be her own, not his. Whether it was a painful end or the happiness they deserved, she hadn't stopped to think of what such things might do to Vash.

Here, seeing him in so much pain, she realized the scale of her grievous error by the pain and fear etched in every taught muscle, every clenched tooth, every stricken tear, every hurtful cry. Her death would cause more damage to this man then she had ever realized. Again, the everlasting question rang in her thoughts: how could so much misfortune fall into this one man's lap?

He had been without Rem for 131 years now. He had lost a man who had been his only brother just three days ago. Over the years, his life must have seemed to him to be one enormous mistake. It must have haunted him more deeply than anyone had ever been haunted. From each drop of blood, there must be a thousand souls screaming torturously in his thoughts.

By proclaiming her feelings for this man she had added yet one more obstacle he would one day have to overcome. It was yet one more problem she had dumped onto his lap. She closed her eyes tightly as a tear streaked down her face and caught itself in the sunlight before it fell from her jaw line to the hand she held weakly in her own.

_I'm sorry,_ she thought blindly. _I'm so sorry._

She wondered how Milly had been able to deal with the pain, to still go on and smile though the weight of the world had rested so squarely on her shoulders the day of Wolfwood's death. Meryl couldn't imagine life without this man, yet it came to her so bluntly that she was no more than a pawn in someone else's hateful scheme, used to hurt him in ways that were no less than cruel and unusual.

She knew without a doubt that while his would heal and he would once more gain the devil's hand, his soul was also broken and that was something not so easily repaired. Meryl doubted it could be fixed at all after the things they had gone through.

Looking up at the sun she frowned and swiveled her head to examine the desert for any clear place they could go that might not seem so readily apparent to the others. They had to get him out of this heat, out of sight before whoever had attacked him returned with reinforcements.

"We need to find cover," she said absently. Her face was void of any obvious emotion. She refused to leave Vash's side. Not unless he asked her to, not unless he needed her to. Though she was sure he wouldn't ask that of her. Not this time. Meryl shook her head. She had to get her mind off those horrible feelings stirring in her gut. The most important thing was to get Vash to safety.

Then, Meryl could plan.

* * *

Shelter came in the form of a tiny canyon no less than 50 yards to the west, something that had been invisible from their position where they had found Vash. Stryker carried their fallen comrade every inch of the way, and Meryl had carried Vash's gun. He had insisted that Milly carry his shotgun for protection; it had much more of a chance of protecting them than her stun gun if they were attacked. Milly swore to protect them all as she would protect her children.

Within the shelter of a small cave, really nothing more than a roof of stone where a low cliff hung over them within the narrow gorge, Milly tended to Vash's wounds. The legendary outlaw was awake and talking, a good sign, but he said nothing of the situation he had faced while he was alone. It worried Meryl a great deal, though she couldn't find the words to tell him so.

The evening passed them by and soon fell into night. Vash seemed less distraught by the day's events as he spoke to them, leaving none out in his moment of relief, insistent that he was okay. Meryl sat next to him, and he crushed her hand in his own, not realizing how much he was hurting her. The scars that covered his torso were bare, so Milly could more easily find the fresh injuries from the day's events.

"She's not human," he whispered, staring to the ground. She's a plant, like Knives and me. A pure born. I'm sure of it."

Milly gave Meryl a look. "A pure born?"

"It means we're in a lot of danger," Meryl said quietly.

Stryker cast her a sidelong glance. "She's not a clone," he muttered, staring into the night from the entrance of the cave.

Pure, meaning that he and Knives hadn't been unique in the world, meaning that now Vash would be pitted against brethren that didn't completely share his genetic structure, and meaning that stakes had now risen to a new level. Vash was pitted against his sister.

Vash didn't complain. He could be a compulsive whiner, but not today. This situation did not require complaint. It required action, whether he was healed or not. He could feel the presence of his enemies somewhere out there, to the north of their makeshift camp.

Stryker had decided not to make a campfire, as it would only draw outsiders toward the light and possibly lead the enemy their way. Heat was out of the question. Milly worked diligently on Vash's wounds, washing them thoroughly and using the last of Vash's liquor, which he had bought in the bar on his first night back with the former insurance girls. He didn't flinch when the alcohol touched his wounds. He felt the pain, and at any other time, he might have reacted, though the reaction would have been simply for show. It was his lone disguise to show the world he was human.

Another lie that he was forced to live. He wasn't human; he was a plant. Yet it was a lie he longed for people to believe. Rem had once said that he was more human than anyone she had ever known, and he suspected Meryl felt the same way.

"Mr. Vash, how are you feeling?" Milly asked as she bandaged the last of his wounds, being sure to dribble the last of the alcohol on the inside of the gauze as she pressed it against his flesh.

He smiled wearily. "Not too bad, actually," he lied, meeting the girl's eyes with his own. His smile widened at seeing the glow in her eyes. Maybe it wasn't such a lie after all. She always could make him feel better, even if she shared his pain.

Meryl sighed. The small cave offered little to them but a shelter away from watchful eyes. She stared out into the winding gorge, but saw nothing more than the narrow walls rising into the darkness. She thought back to the walk across the desert, following just behind Stryker as he carried Vash. She had covered the droplets of blood the fell from Vash's wounds to hide their path as best she could across the sand. She had vowed that if they were found, it would not be by the blood of the man who led this trek.

Later, when she felt his grip go lax in her hand, she moved. Rising to her feet to return to her post near the rock face. Her eyes drifted to the Fifth Moon, the only satellite fully visible between the walls of the small canyon. The vast rock seemed to be in morning, just as she was, feeling the pains that struck so hard she could scarcely bear them, like the punishing bullet holes that riddled Vash's flesh.

She leaned a hand over the cool rock's surface. Despite the chill, she had removed her cape. A single derringer waited in her boot, at the ready should danger strike. It was uncomfortable, but she refused to walk around without it. Her head drooped like a dying flower, her teeth clenched tightly against the pain and impossibility of the situation. Only two night ago there had been so much hope in her heart; now it was replaced by the relentless pain of defeat.

The cross she bore around her neck offered no solace as it once had, when she had loved the man who had given it to her, during a time that seemed so long ago. She tossed a glance back to watch Milly as she double-checked his wounds before taking a place beside him and closed her eyes for a brief but well-earned rest. Vash still looked to be in a painful peace and she turned away to hide the pained expression that caught in a glint against the moon's faded glow.

They were so different in so many ways, and yet none of that had mattered until now. It burned her deeply to think of leaving, but if she went, perhaps she could at least eliminate one problem. The cost would be high, she knew. Her life, that was so precious to the man even before he had recognized his love for her, hung in the balance. but she wouldn't go alone; she would take with her the comfort in knowing she had ended just a measure of his suffering.

There was something about this woman Vash had told them of. If she was pure, as he had said, that would mean she was very much like him. She feared that would mean he might see her as a relative somehow. This would only mean that a new obstacle lay before him, similar to the fact that she knew she was up against a man that had raised her, praised her, and sent her off into the world. She couldn't risk that for anything, not for Vash. Surely there could be some way of making such a problem nonexistent. Surely she could spare Vash's heart once more. But search as she might, she could not think of a single solution to her dilemma.

She would have to stick to the plan she had already formulated in her mind. She possessed the key to the world around her neck, which mean her father was at the very center, perhaps waiting for her to come. It sent shivers through her that signified the end was only beginning. Not the glorious ending she could only wish for, but a catastrophic, climatic collision course with the end of time itself. It was a darker night for her soul then the desert and Meryl felt herself signing the agreement she had made with the devil. It was an agreement she knew she was obligated to fulfill.

She stood there a long time, gazing to the Fifth Moon. She never said a word.

* * *

He lit up one last time as he stared to the heavens.

The night was silent, but even here, at the mouth of the cave, Stryker could hear Vash's soft breathing as though it were equivalent to the rough, complaining groan of his bike engine. Around him, the world was at peace, but in truth, chaos rained down on the whole of existence. He didn't fully understand any of this, but he was a part of it nonetheless. He was a clone, a being that never would have existed without Vash and Knives. He was dealt a crushing blow when his foster parents had been killed, though now he realized that he would never have become a part of this without their sacrifice.

It was just something that had to happen, and the thought made his heart freeze in his chest. He'd wandered across Gunsmoke for three years now, seeking to end the suffering of so many innocents. His primary target throughout those days had been the man laying behind him now, the man clinging to a hope that Stryker had once thought irrelevant. It must be so hard understanding that no matter how much love was shared, the two of them could never live a normal life together. It was an impossible dream saturated by nightmares.

Vash the Stampede was a man willing to stake his life on the philosophy that no one ever had the right to choose the fate of any other individual. Stryker had lived by the gun for three years now, taking lives when he deemed it a necessity, taking lives to protect the innocent. It had been so easy. If the danger proved to be unavoidable, all he had to do was squeeze the trigger and put it all into God's hands. Vash refused to make that choice. _Maybe it's all for the better,_ Stryker thought, though he had yet to understand.

_A pure born?_ Milly had asked, no doubt curious to what Vash had meant by his choice of words. Meryl's answer had been dubious and straightforward: _It means we're in a lot of danger._ He didn't respond, though he heard her as clear as day. He watched the darkness outside wrap around the canyon and slide ever deeper into the cave. Soon it would be impossible for the girls to see at all, though Stryker could see clearly even in the shadows of night. He'd always had great vision, and now he understood why.

He felt so sorry for them, for the pain they had endured their short years together, but that did not mean he didn't envy their friendship, as well as their relationship with the one and only Vash the Stampede. He wished he had such a caring friendship that it transcended family.

He listened to it all as the night moved on, watching the starlit sky. There was nobody out there, at least, none that he could sense, and his senses were topnotch. This night, everything was going smoothly.

He tossed the butt of his cigarette out into the night and turned away from the mouth of the cave. He saw Milly sleeping next to Vash and decided not to risk disturbing either of them. Instead, he looked to Meryl, who stood at the opposite end of the cave's entrance.

She sat there, offering a small smile when their eyes met. He moved over to her. He could see the lie in her smile, but he didn't say so out loud. Instead, he approached. "How're you holding up?" He didn't sit, not yet. He couldn't sit without an invitation, especially seeing that faraway look in her eyes.

She sighed and gestured with her head for him to join her, and he accepted the invitation without a word. Together they sat in the darkness, gazing up to the Fifth Moon. Finally, she spoke, her voice as distant as the look in her eyes. "I'm not sure that's the question I should be answering," she said. "I'm more worried about him then anything else. I don't want to lose him again."

"I understand."

"I don't know that you do, but I'm glad you're with us all the same." She smiled, touching his shoulder. "Without you, he would be dead. Thank you. I'll never forget that."

He worried for them all, because he was beginning to understand the danger these people were in. He remembered the bounty hunter from before who had made an attempt on Vash's life. The man who had scampered away with his tail between his legs. Stryker wondered how many people had actually turned tail that quickly from Vash the Stampede. From the rumors he'd heard, the answer was simply "a lot."

"Of course I worry for him," he said, picking at the dirt with his boot. "It's just that you're the one awake right now."

She had to smile, shaking her head.

They fell silent, staring out over the shadows of the night. Stryker was only all too eager to watch over them as though they were family, especially with Vash in that dreadful condition. He knew Vash would come out of it all right in the end; he had whenever he had sustained all the injuries in his own life. Originally, he had thought it to be no more than luck, but now he was certain that life meant for him to continue on.

Maybe he was predestined to find them and bring them hope. It didn't really matter, so long as they had each other. Stryker would be with them until the end, a bodyguard in their hour of need.

He reached over and grabbed her hand. "He'll survive Meryl. You know that. He'll be just find in the morning and we can continue on our way." He gauged her and smiled. "You just have to trust in yourself, that's all."

Meryl looked down at his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before she let it fall and pulled herself away from him, peering back out into the desert. "You're wrong, Sean. He'll wake up tomorrow and physically, he'll be just fine, ready to go sign his life away for the simple sake of saving the very people who hate him and bruise him. And why? It won't change anything. It never really has. He'll still be the bad-guy in the end."

She wiped the tears from her eyes. Stryker slunk away, stricken by her words.

"Physically he'll be the same old Vash, but in the real ways that truly matter, he'll be broken. He's broken in his heart and spirit, and it feels me with shame. He doesn't deserve any of it, but he bears their sins as if he loves them when in truth none of them give a shit about him." She paused, letting a tear trickle down her cheeks to the sand and into her lap. "It pains him in ways I'll never be able to understand. His biggest fear is that letting the people of this world die and he can't do anything about it. Every bullet he fires is a bullet that wounds him; every flame of life and he dies a little inside. All Milly and I can do is follow him and comfort him as best we can. Should something happen, it's just another nail in his already sealed coffin. Don't you see, Sean? Nothing about this miserable existence is simple."

Stryker lowered his eyes, clinging to her every word, seeing the truth in everything she had to say. He saw through the shell where she hid her soul, sensing the grief that shattered her heart into a thousand shards. "He means more to you then I could ever know," he said quietly.

She nodded. "He means more to me then I'll ever understand."

He sighed. "Aren't you a little cold?"

"I'll be alright."

"Meryl, I'm sorry."

She nodded. "I think I'm going to go get some sleep."


	32. Chapter Twenty Eight

TWENTY-EIGHT: pale moonlight

Vash woke in the dead of the night, staring at a ceiling of stone blackened by shadows. His breathing was even and his pain wasn't quite so great as it had been earlier that evening. He still had that awful ache in the pit of his stomach, but not from the woman's boot that had met his gut or the peirce of his impostor's bullet from his brother's private prison. It was a different pain, a different struggle. The source of this pain came from the girl next to him, who tossed and turned in a restless, nightmarish haze.

He wasn't about to share any of this with his friends. Meryl no doubt already knew. If she'd learned anything in her time with him, his greatest pains in life was the suffering of those people he came into contact with.

Wolfwood crossed his mind again. The vision from before still rattled him, but Wolfwood could never harm Meryl. Not only was he no longer in the world of the living, but he was also a man who cherished his friendships. Wolfwood had not fired on Vash when given a direct order. He would never steal away Meryl. Not like that. He wouldn't take her life.

But the concern for Meryl didn't fade. He still feared for her loss. He couldn't loose her. He refused. He closed his eyes to find rest, but sleep would not come.

It was going to be a long night.

He gazed to Meryl, resting between himself and Milly, and reached out to take her hand. He was a little surprised when she squeezed back. She was awake. "You should be resting," she whispered.

"Hard to sleep when I know the woman I love is having nightmares," he whispered. "You've been tossing and turning for more than an hour."

He forced himself to sit up next to her, not caring whether or not she scolded him. "Vash, please! You're wounds haven't fully healed yet." But her protests fell on deaf ears, and she fell silent, watching him as he stretching his wounded body. Icy, frightened eyes turned to her, staring at her, pleading for her to understand.

"I'm having trouble sleeping myself. I have for months, after I imprisoned Knives. I don't know exactly why, but it's been torturing me." He reached around her, wincing as his real arm, where he had been nicked up pretty badly, wrapped around her. He moaned in pain but did not relinquish her. "My only solace has been that the people I care for have been safe from Knives and the Gung-Ho Guns. Now that's all starting to change again."

He took her left hand into his prosthetic one, giving it a gentle squeeze as he gazed down to her.

"Vash, this past year when you…while you were gone, when nothing went wrong…it just seems like the fact you've been around us only causes more trouble for you."

"Bullshit," he said simply.

She averted her eyes. "I just knew something was bothering you, that's all."

"You think all this started just because you showed up to follow me around again?" Vash grunted. He shook his head in digust. "Meryl, even if you wanted to, you couldn't alter my problems. Whether you're at my side or not, you could never change my future. My fate belongs to no one. No one can change it but me."

"But I can't help but think I am somehow responsible."

"I didn't come back for you because I dreaded putting you in danger. I'm the one with the sixty billion double-dollar bounty on my head, remember?" He glanced to the cave's entrance. Stryker was gone; it was a little discouraging, because even he hadn't heard his duplicate leave. "It took me three months to find a suitable place to imprison Knives. That alone was dangerous enough. Then I returned to that old shuttle we discovered together a few years after Project SEEDS failed. My dreams hit me long before you came back into my life, Meryl, whether you choose to believe it or not."

He closed his prosthetic fist, allowing Meryl to see the awkward shift of the wrist against his thumb.

"This was broken in a gunbattle because I wasn't paying attention. A bounty hunter shot me from five feet away, and I never saw it coming." Vash's eyes were distant, though he stared directly into her own. "I was lucky enough to hear the shot and get my arm up. Believe me, having you with me encourages me to keep a better eye for any sign of potential danger."

Meryl didn't comment. She couldn't find the words to respond. At least not with anything that made any real sense in her mind, and if it made no sense to her, she refused to say it. She was cynical and realistic at the moment, and the truth the rattled around inside her skull was the only beacon to guide her through the haze of her fears.

"It's not that simple when it comes to this, Vash. All I can be is a distraction and certain death." She turned her eyes away and closed off her heart for a moment, trying to recapture her bearings. "I wonder how Milly was able to do it, how she was able to retain that one precious moment that still stays with her. Regrets, I suppose. I don't think I could live with a single moment."

"Don't do this to yourself, Meryl. Trust in your heart. You keep thinking with your head and that's the one thing holding you back." He smirked down at her. "That you're with me today proves that you can follow your heart on occasion."

He brushed her hair from her face, kissing her forehead. He lay against her for a time, eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the night—Milly's soft snoring and Meryl's heartbeat took a special place in his heart. They were with him, and maybe that's all that really mattered. Screw his troubles. Screw everything now that he had her here. His troubles, his aches and pains, all gone now that he had her at his side.

"I can't help but feel that I'll only get in the way."

He hardened at her insensitive words. "You think you're a distraction? Damnit Meryl, that pisses me off. Not very many things do, but that really pisses me off." Meryl twisted away from him, eyes wide at his harsh tone. He didn't let up; at that moment he felt betrayed by the girl in his arms, that she would think so little of him after all this time, and so little of herself. "I thought you knew me better than that."

He looked away, still angry.

Milly shifted in her place at his side. Vash clenched his teeth, expecting her to wake, but she only snored louder. Closing his eyes, he lay a hand on her shoulder, demanding her attention. "Don't ever think that of yourself," he whispered harshly. "Damnit Meryl, you've gotta have faith."

Meryl closed her eyes, but she didn't say anything.

"Without faith, what's the point?"

She felt the coldness of his anger in more than his voice. It was in his posture and the grip on her shoulder. It was in the way he turned from her and shut her out, even if only for a moment of his life. Here was a feeling Meryl didn't care to experience, but she wasn't sure how she could make amends for it when she couldn't take it back, and she wouldn't anyway because she knew in her heart that it was honest and true. Her views were lay out in the open, baring her soul to the devil himself. She felt scolded and small and insignificant and she wasn't sure what to think.

She stirred uneasily, gazing to the shadows straight ahead of her, confused and hurt when she wasn't all to sure that was what she was supposed to be feeling. Once again, the overwhelming guilt wrapped around her. Had she made the wrong decision again? "I didn't mean…"

Vash looked to her, and she felt his eyes piercing her soul, catching the lie in her throat before she could even speak it. She hesitated. If she hadn't meant what she'd said, why had she said it at all? How can you know where the lie ended and truth began if you weren't at all sure what you were trying to say in the first place?

She closed her eyes against the brief pain that coursed through her and pushed herself to a standing position, brushing off her slacks as if nothing was wrong. But by the look in her violet eyes as she flashed him one last gaze was enough to say that something was deeply wrong with the situation and she was suddenly at a loss for words, something that rarely happened to Meryl Stryfe.

Raked by her own emotions, she appeared ready to speak, but at the last moment changed her mind, instead heading for the mouth of the cave. "Meryl?" She ignored him and slipped out into the soft glow of the pale moonlight.

Stryker couldn't let her go far, so he followed her out into the night, watching her with evident concern. Once she crossed the threshold of what he considered safe, he took a few long, silent strides until he was there, at her side. "You can't go that way," he whispered. His hand came up and wrapped gently around her arm, just above the elbow. "Please, Meryl. I don't know exactly what you plan to do, but you can't go out there on your own. Don't forget what Vash said."

_I know exactly what Vash said,_ she thought, but she knew that Sean didn't mean the same thing she did.

"There are others out there, watching us, just itching for a chance to hurt him. If you go now, you make yourself the target. You hurt him."

She felt her heart sink deeper into her chest at his words. Her eyes trailed the ground at her feet, refusing to meet his gaze. She wasn't trying to flee Vash. She was trying to protect him. Now, Stryker accused her of something far worse. Was she really turning herself into artillery meant to riddle Vash with pain? Her heart ached at the very thought.

"It's none of my business what's going on between you two and I won't follow you, but I do ask that you hear me out."

She finally let her eyes meet his. She refused to let him think any less of her as a person, but what kind of person could she possibly be if she couldn't look her friends in the face. "Go on," she said, her voice scarcely a whisper.

"Trust in him," Stryker said gently.

She felt her heart spill from her and shatter against the ground like a vase knocked from a table. She knew her face was pale. Trust. It was an occuring theme in her heart, and she had begun to realize that she hadn't placed her trust in him. Not truly. _Damnit Meryl, you gotta have faith,_ he had said. Meryl started to wonder if she had ever had faith. It sure must not seem like it to Vash.

"It's Vash we're talking about," Stryker continued. "The man who can get out of the most impossible situations imaginable. At least, that's what they say."

As she risked a glance behind her shoulder to the cave, and found she couldn't find the strength to look away. Meryl's heart sank. She realized suddenly that it really _was_ Vash they were talking about, and that he hadn't followed her. That could mean one of two things: that he had given up on her and decided not to follow, which Meryl didn't think was very likely, or he had tried and failed because of his injuries. She knew that it was Vash, and that either was possible.

The thought that he had not come after her had never crossed her mind. She realized then just what she had done to him by doubting him and herself. She understood the pain she had caused him when she had simply left without a single word or even a parting glance, what she was still doing by standing out here now.

_Way to go, Meryl. Lift him up and shoot him right back down._

All the same, it hurt her to no avail that he had been pained at her honesty, the one good trait she had been sure she possessed, along with a fiery temper that had gotten her quite a few titles along the way, but it was more of a cover for all the flaws she had hoped no one would ever see behind that calm, collected exterior. One of them was her fear for Vash, not only because of the others that were bent on pulling the trigger, but also for the pain she herself could cause without even trying. She finally managed to pull her gaze back to Stryker, having heard every word he spoke like a second voice in the far out reaches of her mind.

"I'm not running away from him, Sean. I just needed…" She stopped herself. What was it she needed? She'd run from the cave so quickly she hadn't even remembered her cape, her only means of protection save for the single derringer hidden within her boot. She doubted that was enough to fight off a single assailant, let alone a hoard of her father's men. Suddenly she felt a chill in the crisp night air, but she wasn't sure if she shivered from the cold or from the determined look in those twin emerald pools gazing to her. "No excuses," she said finally. "I forgot my place, that's all. Thank you, Sean…for stopping me." She leaned forward and rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. He smiled.

She turned and started walking back to the cave where their friends waited. Sean crossed his arms and watched her leave. She knew he was right, knew that she had doubted herself and in the crossroads, she had doubted him. She paused outside the cave's entrance, staring forward at something she had not experienced much in her life: when she could admit she was wrong and push aside her pride to do what was right. She knew it was past time that she grew up and faced the world with the knowledge that even she could be wrong on occasion, as much as it hurt to admit it.

She shook her head and stepped into the cave, her eyes more attuned for the dark light. She saw him from where he lay on the ground. Her heart sank when she realized that he hadn't moved. He hadn't come after her. His eyes met hers, and for a time neither spoke. For a moment, only the sound of the wind pestering the sand disturbed her thoughts. "I don't blame you for not following me," she whispered.

"There's nothing to blame," Vash replied, never taking his eyes from her.

"You know me. I can carry a grudge."

"If you have to know, I didn't follow you because I knew you'd come back."

She snorted. "That's pretty damn arrogant, Vash."

"Not at all. I didn't follow you because I had faith you would come back. I had faith in you, Meryl."

With a shake of her head, Meryl realized that he had just taught her a valuable lesson, one that she would have to remember. Her heart started to race her mind, pounding furiously in her ears, and all at once, she fell in love with him all over again. She moved to his side and slid to her knees next to him. He watched her, never taking his eyes from her as she took his right hand and held it near her heart. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She ran her fingers daintily along his scarred torso, as if trying to absorb the pain of his tortured soul. He opened his mouth to respond, but she touched his lips softly with her fingertips. "Don't speak…not yet. There's something I have to say first."

He nodded, letting a deep breath fill his lungs.

"I made a mistake tonight. I underestimated your heart. I still meant every word that I said, but that doesn't mean I don't trust you. My head is screaming at me that this is all the biggest mistake that has ever been made in the long, sad history of mistakes, but then again, if there ever was a soul that could turn a mistake into an advantage, it was Vash the Stampede." He gazed to her, reaching out to touch her cheek. She blocked his hand, taking it delicately in her own. "I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'll try to remember my place. We're in this together. I failed to realize…" She sighed heavily. "I want you to know I won't leave you, Vash. No matter what, I'll never leave you."

Her voice faded and she took the man into her loving embrace gently crushing his head to her chest so that he could hear the violent pounding of her heart inside her and the soft breaths that escaped her lungs and caught in her throat. Gentle tears slowly slid from her cheeks, falling into his golden hair like sweet drops of rain that they never saw in such places. She rested her chin upon his head as she stared off into some place in the distance. No sleep would find her this night. She had more important things to do.

Violet eyes stared off, catching briefly in the soft rays of the Fifth Moon; she held onto him as if nothing could pull them apart. Nothing held that much power, no gun could demand that much respect. If she was to die she would die beside this man. Not before, not after. She refused to let go of the ending they deserved and that thought rekindled the fire of her mind and heart and caused a small smile to play on her lips.

"I love you. No matter who you are."

"I love you too, Meryl," he murmured hoarsely, his voice muffled by the fabric of her blouse. He didn't make a move to embrace her. Tears poured from his face, and that was enough to send his love overflowing, spilling onto her as her tears fell onto him.

Nearby, Milly shifted, yet she didn't wake.

He heard Stryker as well, rustling outside, just out of view. He prayed Meryl understood that she wasn't solely responsible for the pain they all shared, that he shared every bit of the blame and that he wouldn't have it any other way. He didn't speak. It would have been to difficult through his tears. He preferred to rest against her and listen to the pounding of her heart, the soft breaths that filled her lungs, the gentle exhales that shunned the darkness encompassing her soul, forcing it to return to the nothingness where it belonged.

She held him; her embraced left him feeling more human than ever before. He was vulnerable.

_You're such a baby, Vash._

He remembered the phrase fondly, but for the first time in his life he truly believed Rem's words to be true. He understood them as never before. _Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be, Rem. Maybe it's my strongest connection to humanity._

"Meryl," he whispered, shattering the silence between them. The name encompassed him in its strength, showering him with hope. He breathed in the scent of her, letting her love fill his soul.

_If you keep your vision clear, you will see the future. What happens in our future is our responsibility._

For the briefest of moments, Vash felt the haze of the present fade, and there he saw his future. He saw Meryl standing there in the shadow of Rem Saverem, as he had on that day just over a year ago, the day before he slipped away from them. He felt their two hearts inside him, pounding as one right along with his own. He knew where Meryl found her strength—that was something he had determined long ago—and he was able to draw his own from her.

_I will continue to believe in you, Rem,_ he thought, remembering his revelation as he stood over Knives after the battle that had ended their struggles. _But from now on, I'll look to my own words for guidance._ He smiled at the thought. Maybe Meryl was an angel, sent from the heavens by Rem herself to guide him along the right path.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was that this angel was no more or less human than himself. In this moment, her body was pressed against his own, her tears drizzling in his hair. In this moment, they were entirely human.


	33. Chapter Twenty Nine

Author's Note: This is my first update in several months because I have been in the middle of writing my first non-fan fic novel. I'm looking forward to having the book published through I will keep you updated.

* * *

TWENTY-NINE: nothing else

He watched them for a time from the darkness of the gorge, well out of their line of sight, and he wondered. He wondered what it was like to have such a powerful love, a love that encompassed the whole of the heart and bound it to another so tightly that neither had room for anything more, a love so powerful that it filled the glass of life to the brim and beyond, spilling out and gracing the land upon which they walked with a happiness unmatched by any other emotion.

After a time, he slipped to the entrance of the cave and leaned against the rock face. He stared to the ground, his hair unbound so that it cascaded over his shoulders, golden bangs so thick and long that they spilled over his eyes and covered half of his face. He listened to Meryl's heartfelt apology, and his heart ached right alongside them.

You're lucky, Vash the Stampede. She's a strong woman, and she could be dedicated if she would only open her heart and realize just how strong she truly is.

Vash's voice spilled through his mind a moment later. I know.

Stryker turned his face to the older plant and bobbed his head slowly. Get some rest. He let the words drift to the man from whom Mortgante the Warhead had created him, using the arm Knives had stolen from him back at July, nearly a quarter of a century ago. It seemed unreal, the whole of it, and he didn't quite understand. His telepathic abilities were odd enough. He had never known them before Vash the Stampede. One thing was sure, had they not been connected in such a way, it would have only made it all the more difficult for him. Vash might not have been able to connect with him so quickly. Stryker might have forced him into a gunfight that would have ended with a death.

Vash was so quick and so skilled that Stryker believed he would not have won such a fight. But Vash had a thing against killing people, and would have attempted to protect a man even if he knew that man was a clone, and Stryker could have won given that truth. However, Stryker remembered the fight at Knives' personal prison, and with that knowedge he came to understand that Vash would do anything to protect the people he cared for.

Had that battle with his clone at the alien fortress ended with Vash's death, he would no longer be able to protect the girls. That's why Vash had chosen to take a life. He had chosen the lesser of two evils back at the SEEDS shuttle which destroyed hundreds of plant-spawn, all cloned in some way from the blood of the man that Meryl Stryfe clung to so desperately.

Understanding, a small smile crept across Stryker's lips. _I love you,_ she had said. _No matter who you are._

Stryker felt that he was quickly earning a place among them, though Vash had welcomed him with open arms from the beginning, despite the 8-shooter he had so ruthlessly shoved between the man's eyes. This way, he could feel more at peace with himself. This way, he had truly earned their trust. No one could turn that trust away, no one could ruin his newfound life but himself. So long as he stayed true to his heart and stood faithfully by Vash's side, Stryker would have a home among them.

That realization made his heart sing.

* * *

_He stood with the woman who had adopted him, in the entrance of their home, overlooking the small farm his foster father had erected from nothing more than a few seeds, sweat, and tears. Off in the distance, the village plant could be seen, visible from within the cracked bowels of a fallen starship._

_Alisa Ryker was a gentle woman, the first face he had seen in his new existence, the only existence in his memory. She clutched his hand with a proud smile as she showed him the world outside from the tiny room he had known, the room in which she had helped him to heal. He held her wrinkled hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that showed his appreciation. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently._

_"Welcome home, Sean," she whispered._

_He glanced at her. "Why Sean?" he asked quietly._

_"Your father and I lost a baby once," she whispered. "We would have named him Sean, but I fell very sick late in the pregnancy. I was too weak to support two lives, and my body gave up on the baby and focused on healing itself." Tears glistened against her rosy cheeks. "We picked out the name Samantha for a girl and Sean for a boy. I guess we always liked the name."_

_He smiled sadly, gazing to her. "I like it, too," he whispered. "Mom."_

_She glowed through her sadness. She had her son, the son she had always desired, the son she could not give her husband. She would never be able to watch him grow. Sean had grown up long ago, as a man of a name she did not know, a man long forgotten. Regardless, she could see his smile and she knew he would protect her, that he would love her and Tristan for as long as he possibly could. Forever and always._

_It lifted her spirits up and beyond the stars she knew so very little about to the heavens beyond. "Oh Sean," she whispered, wiping away fresh tears._

* * *

Stryker stood at the edge of the world and watched as a cluster of falling stars rained down from the heavens, filling the black, starlit sky with an explosion of color. There were some things about his life he regretted. He regretted not being able to remember anything about his life before the Rykers had taken him in and made him their son. He regretted his impatience with the farming life and his eagerness to leave the Rykers' land. He regretted that his last words with his foster father, a man who had loved him and offered him a life all his own, had been so selfish.

_I'm leaving. I have to explore my purpose in this life. I can't do that sitting around out here in the middle of nowhere._

No more than that. Tristan had simply nodded and took his son's hand, a tear drizzling down his cheek. In the coming seconds, Sean learned the truth of something his foster parents had tried to instill in him since his first days with them, when he was conscious but bedridden.

_Patience is a virtue, Sean. Remember that. Take with you the love your mother and I have for you, and understand that love will never die, but it will grow in you always. There is so much good in your heart. It's one of the first things I noticed about you the day you woke up._

He hadn't responded. In fact, he hadn't said anything following that brief lecture. They had been walking through town to meet Marian at the bank. He had thought about it, in the moment before tragedy struck as well as the yars that followed. He thought about it now and couldn't help but shed a tear in the memory of his fallen foster parents.

He had loved them so much, and he knew they had known.

He only wished he would have been able to say it one last time before death had taken them from him.

Meryl held him close to her heart. Tears fell from his eyes and soaked through the thin cloth of her blouse to the skin beneath. She ran her hand through his hair while the other rested so gently against his cheek, cradling him to her as if he were the most precious thing to hold. And to her, he was. She laid a gentle kiss to his forehead as he returned the affections she had shared with him. It made her glow, made her cheeks flush and her hands tremble.

Gone were the anger and the pain of earlier, replaced only by the gentleness that surrounded them. She softly and sweetly shushed away the pain, reassuring him with her touch that everything was all right and that the past hours were gone and forgotten. Lost to her were the feelings of rejection that had tortured her. There was only Vash in his pain and suffering, and he needed her desperately to love and hold him.

She held so much doubt within her, doubt that hung over them like a dangerous cloud awaiting to shield them and rain on their glorious revelations. She knew deep inside that if she were to ever succeed in becoming more than what she was, then she would have to pull back from that inner demon and become the strong person she needed to be, that she knew she could be. The person Vash needed her to be.

"You should rest," she whispered after a time, her eyes closing as she gently continued her hold of him against her. Her hand trailed down his cheek to rest on his shoulder. The night was so cold, but they were surrounded by the warmth of each other.

Now that they were together, nothing else seemed to matter.

_

* * *

_

Sleep claimed him, and he went without question.

_Cradled comfortably within her arms like the baby Rem used to call him, Vash drifted off to sleep. It was a restless sleep, and he continued to tremble against her touch, unable to free himself of the tortures that tore so mercilessly at his soul. He felt Meryl against him, even in his sleep, and could feel the gentle breath against his cheek as she murmured oaths of love to him, words that came to him from a distance as he fought throught eh terros in his own realm of dreams. The world around him was cast in a heavy haze, and his heart would only be made heavier becasue of it._

_He stirred in the darkness between sleep and wake. He could see only deep, inky blackness and sense nothing about him but the dry chill of oblivion. The frail beating of his heart and soft tingling in his ear left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could feel his head spinning wildly. He didn't know how long he had drifted in this mysterious purgatory, but he knew that it had been far too long._

_A torrent of emotions raged through him—anger, embarrassment, envy of those who had evaded the enemy's wrath. Most of all, there was sorrow. Sorrow for those who had depended on him to protect their lives, and sorrow that they had suffered for his failures. He thought of Rem, the one who had cared for him, the one who had given her all to help in is impossible quest. He thought of how she had suffered, how her life had come to a sudden and brutal end at the ire of his brother, Knives._

_Drained of power and emotion, the fallen soldier continued to drift, aimless._

_He had failed them all. He deserved this end, he knew, deserved to drift the endless expanse between life and death, forever. He would follow in the wake of so many before him. Rem, Wolfwood, Legato, Knives, all the people he had either loved or hated, all flames of life that had been extinguished during his watch. Even for Vash, who was penned to be a steel-hearted bastard of an outlaw, it was too much to bear._

* * *

She stayed with him the entirety of the night, never drifting from the wakeful world to rest. No, there was to be no sleep for Meryl, lost to much in the writhing pain of the one whom she cradled so delicately. She had watched him while he slept, rather tossed and turned as unrelenting nightmares took control of him so viciously, leaving Meryl to feel weak and frail while she held the once strong soldier in her arms.

The world had turned its back on Vash, and in return Vash had finally recoiled and turned back in on himself. Perhaps that was what truly frightened her, that he had begun to lose hope. How could she believe in herself when Vash himself began to doubt? How the cruel twist of fate had played so much on her mind and his life was beyond her comprehension. She found herself in constant wonder at which was the better conclusion for Vash's life: to live knowing that he had failed, or to die knowing the same fate. She wished for neither end, but she couldn't depend on her own selfish needs to stand in the way of what was best, no matter what happened.

She kept telling herself that it was the way the fates had planned things for them, to find true happiness only to watch it fade away with the last breath that came from parting lips. It pained her to think of such an end, but she knew what a great possibility it was, and because of this she could no longer try to hide behind the glory of their unspoken moments. It was a bitter realization Meryl felt within the depths of the shadowy cave.

Vash twisted in her arms and she instinctively relaxed by whispering soft and strong words for him, that she was there and that everything would be all right. Still, she caught herself in a lie, knowing that it could never be true. Her arms tightened around him and she let out a sigh that revealed more than she could say in the span of two lifetimes.

If this was to be the end, she could think of no better way for it to be, beside the man she loved. Over 130 years of pain seemed not enough for this man to live through; fate had written him a deadly ending to his story. Rem had been denied her dream for him, just as Wolfwood had been silenced of his prayers. Knives had won despite his failures.

There were no true winners in this story, only the loss that was far more than anyone should have to bear.

She clung to him, holding on for every precious moment that was to be shared with him. Eyes on the sky that seemed withdrawn and away from the world at large, awaiting the rise of the sun in its glorious sky, granting a new day to them, one more day to suffer, one less day to experience the pain along the road to death. It hurt her more than she knew to think of the things she could never experience in a lover's existence. There would be no wonderful joy of love that would fill their home with children who would play outdoors to their hearts' content, unafraid of whatever would be lurking around the corner. She longed for such engagements, and saw them just beyond her reach.

_You have always been there in some way. Please, I beg you, shine some light on this dark path. Show me a way out of this hell._ Her prayers slipped into the darkness, and she wondered if they were lost on deaf ears. She wondered what God, if any, truly waited for her beyond this life. And, while the sun began to rise over the vast desert plains, the shadows settled over Meryl's soul and declared the end to happiness in their wake.

* * *

Stryker was busy loading weapons just outside the cave entrance, one eye constantly scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. Luckily, they had made it through the night and for the moment they were at peace. He slipped two shells into his double-barreled shotgun and slung the thing over his shoulder as he slid his arm through the strap, replaced the 8-shooter into the holster on his right hip, and the black magnum into his belt on the left. He eyed the horizon one last time before he slipped back into the cave. Leaning against the wall, he saw only one pair of eyes gazing up to him. Meryl, who hadn't slept a wink all night, looked utterly exhausted.

"We need to get going," he said gently, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lip. "He may have to walk on his own. He's too big for you, so Milly will have to take over." He approached and held out her cape with the fifty two-shot derringers. "I checked and cleaned them all. You're fully loaded. Good shape, too. You treat them well."

She reached out and took her cape, inspecting his handiwork, and smiled as she slid her hand over each of them in turn. They had never looked so good, not since the day she purchased them and after all the years she had used them. She'd managed to take good care of them over the years, but not since meeting up with Vash. Her attention spaced to the brief moments of running her fingers along the cool metal, something she did now. Genuine affection shown in her eyes. "You didn't have to do this," she whispered, though she was clearly touched by the gesture.

He grinned. "I only had an entire night to think."

She regretted having to wake Vash when he had finally stopped shaking in her arms, but she had known that with the first light they would have to go. The night had seemed to expand over lifetimes, though she was grateful for the reprieve from running. So far, she seemed untouched by the weariness that was sure to attack later that day. Regrettably, she lightly shook Vash in her arms, leaning him gently against the wall as she whispered sweet words to rouse him from his slumber.

When he stirred she gave the girl next to her a shove that would be considered ungentle to most, but to Milly it was no more than a tiny push.

The big girl stirred, peering up at Meryl with one eye. She stifled a yawn. "Is it morning already?" She shook her head and rubbed her face with her hands. "I could use a few more hours."

Meryl smiled and leaned back, but she seemed to struggle as she pushed herself wearily to her feet, barely able to keep her balance as she steadied herself against the wall of the cave. Once she regained her bearing she reached for her cape and slipped it around her shoulders, running a hand through her hair in a meager attempt to look decent.

Milly frowned. "Meryl, you look exhausted. Didn't you sleep well?"

She passed her friend a feigned smile. "I'm fine, Milly, thanks. I hope you slept well." She shook her head, knowing that nothing short of a cataclysmic event could stir Milly from her slumber. When she was out, she was out. "What about you, Vash? Think you can you manage?"

"I'm going to be okay, I think. Just a little sore." The legendary gunman tried to push himself to his feet, only to stumble and fall back against the wall. He grunted to himself and rested there. He was incredibly sore, though he wouldn't admit the truth so easily. He had so many things on his mind it wasn't funny. He looked up to Meryl with what appeared to be a plea for help. His entire body ached despite what he had said, and this time there would be no hiding the truth. Everyone already knew as he silently begged for assistance that he was far worse than he had let on.

She frowned and slipped to his side, kneeling down and offering a sympathetic gaze as she manuevered herself so that she could wrap her arm around his waist. He helped her as best he could, draping an arm over her shoulder. She looked at him silently for a moment as if preparing him for the trip to his feet, then pushed up with all the strength of her legs and back, forcing him to his feet. Despite her lack of height, Meryl certainly wasn't lacking in strength.

She breathed hard and then smiled for him as she gathered her wits. "They say the first step is always the hardest, right?" She laughed slightly, relieved when he chuckled along with her. Milly slipped over to his other side and let him drape his prosthetic over her shoulder. With Vash in this condition, it was understood that they wouldn't make much ground before they had to rest, and Stryker, being the best available shot, wouldn't be able to share the load. They also ran the risk of not finding shelter, which worried Meryl more so than having to stop on occasion.

Stryker approached and offered Vash his silver magnum. The elder plant removed his arm from Meryl's shoulder and accepted it, slipping it into the holster at his right hip. "I did a little scouting last night," the black-clad gunman announced. "Turns out we don't have to go very far at all." He gave them a daring smile and turned his back to them, setting out on the journey.

"What do you mean?" Vash asked.

Stryker only smiled and slipped out into the sunlight. The others followed him, and they turned to the northwest. Then, he glanced back to the girls and drew a deep breath. He led them through the narrow gorge until they once again approached higher ground. Soon they were walking away from the night's shelter, hopeful of avoiding a fight.

"I thought this place was uninhabited," Stryker announced after a time. The other looked to him, no doubt curious by his tone. "Last night I found out different."

"But who?" Meryl asked. He shrugged, and gestured out, far to the west, where a darkened portion of the land awaited them, well off in the distance. It was difficult to see, but it was there. Meryl shook her head. "I don't understand."

Stryker grinned. "You'll know soon enough."

They started westward.


	34. Chapter Thirty

THIRTY: bingo

They walked for the better part of the morning. Milly was relatively talkative, though she was the only one, bantering on about what a great night's sleep she'd had. Apparently she'd overcome the pain of the past; having three friends there to support her no doubt had a profound effect on her psyche. She supported Vash with her left shoulder while she openly carried her stun gun on the other where she could easily drop it into a ready position and hit any attacker that might come upon them. Luckily, they had avoided danger throughout the trek to the shadowy place on the horizon.

Eventually, they came to a patch of land eerily different from any they had ever seen. Instead of a sun-baked wasteland, filled with cracked and bone-dry, they discovered what seemed to be a plot of soil, and it stretched out for as far as the eye could see. They gazed in wonder at the spectacle, lost in their curiosity.

"There was a city out here somewhere," Stryker said as he approached the darkened soil. "I saw the lights."

"Maybe on the other side of this?" Milly pondered.

"I think so." Stryker fell to a knee and swept his fist through the dark earth. "Wet," he muttered, glancing back to them.

It was the last word any of them had expected to describe any land on this barren world. Here they were, in near-hundred degree heat, and they had discovered something beyond bizarre. It looked like good soil, the kind of soil a farmer would eagerly plant his crops. However, there was nothing growing here.

"It's a lake," Vash whispered.

"A lake?"

He looked at his love with a nod. "An underground reservoir, to be exact. They tried to hide it by poisoning the topsoil with salt. Looks like it worked. I doubt it's deep, but it's very close to the surface, and so the topsoil soaks it up like a sponge. I'd say it's probably oval-shaped, and it covers at least ten acres."

"How do you know?"

"I'd heard rumors, but I never thought it would be this big."

Stryker gave him a look. "I want to know who the hell 'they' is."

Vash smiled. "The people who were here before Project SEEDS crash-landed on their world." With that, he gestured to the moistened plot of land. "There were plenty of rumors that Knives and I heard during our first few years together. We heard of an ancient civilization that might have ruled this world a long time ago."

Milly gazed at him in awe. "That's amazing. But why would they hide water from us? I mean, there certainly looks like plenty to me."

Stryker frowned. "That's easy. They didn't. They were long gone before we got here."

Meryl frowned. "But then, who did?"

"It's a thing of nature," Stryker said. "It's a wonder it's stayed hidden this long."

"I don't think that's the case, actually," Vash said.

Stryker watched him for a moment before he drew a breath. "There's some kind of settlement on the other side. They destroyed this land to make it look worthless, and then settled on the remaining land. They didn't want outsiders intruding on their land."

Vash nodded. "Makes sense." He stretched out with his prosthetic arm, pointing to an area on the horizon where a thin stream of smoke rolled up and out toward the north.

Meryl blinked in wonder, realizing that Vash and his clone were exactly right. There was somebody out there, all right, meaning his suspicions from the night before were right on cue. "I didn't think was a SEEDS ship ever crashed out here," she said.

"They didn't," Vash replied. "The people migrated out here."

Meryl blinked. "You mean…all of this, the water and everything…it's _all_ natural? There's no plant producing all this?"

Vash smiled. "Bingo."

"So what next?" Stryker asked.

"The land will hold," he replied. "We have to keep on going. I want to pay a visit to the people who live out there."

They all stared silently at Vash. He had that fire back in his eyes, as if he had suddenly located yet another of nature's weapons to use as his own. His enemy was hellbent on using Vash the Stampede to destroy Vash the Stampede. It was simply up to Vash to find the counter. His arm closed tighter around Meryl as a smile stretched across his face.

"Are you crazy?" Meryl asked. "You want to go reveal yourself to somebody? You're hurt. How can you expect to defend yourself?"

"Ought to be easy," he said, grinning. "These people have probably been out of the loop a long time. Maybe even longer than a quarter of a century, which would mean…"

"That they don't know who Vash the Stampede is," Meryl whispered. "But even that's a stretch. They could've moved out here at any time."

"I don't think so," Vash said.

"Well, why don't we quit thinking about it and just go find out," Stryker said, and lay his foot out into the wet soil. It gave a little, like a wet sponge, but held his weight with ease.

The four of them set off across the underground reservoir, heading out into the mystery of the unknown.

* * *

They crossed the underground lake in the matter of a few hours. The ground was very soft—broke in places where it was too weak for their weight—making it all the more difficult for Meryl and Milly to lug Vash across. He aided them where he could, but Vash anticipated that there would be no major difficulties beyond the lake. The people here were unlikely to be much of a threat, though they might not be fond of outsiders.

Stryker had made the decision to go in without the intent to draw his weapons, and he told Milly to put her stun gun away. As they came to the other end of the lake, they found something that was beyond a rarity to the people of Gunsmoke.

They climbed over a tall dike and stepped onto a sea of grass that stretched out for as far as the eye could see. Here and there, a splattering of trees beckoned them, at least a dozen groves in the stretch of land that they could see. Surrounding each tiny grove was a series of buildings. Most of them were houses, small huts built to offer the people shelter against the elements. It was indeed a village, spread out across a bizarre, fertile world.

"It's…like nothing I've ever seen," Meryl murmured. "How does this…" She shook her head, unable to put words to her query. In short, it was simply breathtaking, and she couldn't at all describe the thoughts cycling through her as she gazed upon it.

Vash spoke, breaking the eerie silence with soft awe, as though the single word was all the answer she would ever need: "Eden."

Stryker drew a deep breath. "Amazing. I don't believe it."

"I don't know if I do either," Milly murmured.

His young duplicate started out across the field toward the first set of houses. "Looks like someone beat us to it," he said behind a smirk.

Meryl shook her head. This was a world all too perfect to question, so she simply tightened her grip of Vash, sharing the load with Milly, and started after Stryker, her cape carefully draped about her shoulders to conceal the derringers held within.

She took a glance around, eyes still wide with shock. This was a place she felt she could stay forever. It was so utterly beautiful she felt that it would be nearly impossible to leave this place, though she was certain that would eventually be their fate. But maybe here they could stay and let Vash heal and gather his strength. Meryl knew she wanted a bath and her clothes were in desperate need of a washing. Fresh water would be nice as well. _A bed,_ she thought. _God, a real bed. That would be heavenly._ She sighed and leaned her head against the man whose smile stretched across eternity. For once, things felt as right as they should be.

* * *

Within the hour, the four travelers were allowed to meet with the man in charge. Meryl, the voice of business among them, spoke with the village leader, a plump, eccentric man by the name of Ivan Bosovich as the others lounged about the expansive living room, sipping on fine drinks and dining on cheese and crackers.

The people who lived here called their village New Hope, and it had been nearly a decade since the last newcomer had found himself here in their lonely, peaceful village. There were only about a hundred people living here, and it was no surprise that they relied heavily on the underground lake that practically surrounded the village. They had destroyed the soil over the lake with salt years ago, as Vash had predicted, to keep a mass amount of outsiders from flooding their land. This was a world Ivan's grandparents had built from the ground up, using the lake to establish the most expansive, green realm on the planet, and they didn't care much for outsiders, as Vash had predicted. He barely listened to the conversation, and hardly touched any of the food he was offered. He felt faint due to his injuries, and he made sure the others knew he wasn't feeling well.

Meryl soon landed them a little room in a two-story home not far from Ivan's mansion, and he dismissed the four to get settled in to rest after their long journey. Of course, Meryl got him undressed and into bed the moment it was possible. He quickly drifted off to sleep, leaving them to explore his dreams. The girls sat nearby, discussing the future over a cup of hot tea, never taking their eyes from their sleeping friend for more than a few moments at a time. Meryl set to work mending the fresh holes in Vash's red coat, preparing it for the future, though she didn't quite know what future held for them. In the meantime, Stryker disappeared into one of the back rooms with little more than a quiet look that told the girls he needed to be alone.

Milly cast Vash a sidelong glance, smiling. "The poor guy's exhausted. I hope his dreams are peaceful now."

Meryl didn't say anything. She simply sighed and sipped her tea before returning to her knitting. At least Vash wasn't tossing and turning anymore.

"Do you think it's over for awhile? Maybe we can stay here and relax a few days."

Meryl smiled. "Maybe. I wouldn't get my hopes up, but you never know."

"It would be nice for Vash to have a chance to heal."

"Yeah."

Stryker reemerged a short time later, transformed. The girls didn't notice right away, but he had altered his appearance. Now his hair stood on end, cropped to the exact length as Vash's. His left hand was wrapped in a leather glove that came up to his elbow. He still wore his black jeans and a black muscle shirt.

When Meryl saw him, she lowered her knitting and shot to her feet. "Amazing," she whispered. "You look just like him."

Milly giggled. "Of course he looks just like him. He's a clone, remember, Meryl?"

"Oh, your impossible." Meryl shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So Sean, why the makeover?"

* * *

Meryl moaned in ecstasy as she slipped into the steaming tub, letting the scalding hot water caress her slender, aching frame. She thanked the Lord above for the opportunity to bathe, to wash away the proverbial muck and grime and blood of the past three days. Alone, with only Vash to consume her worries, she would have the opportunity to repair her heart.

She had stood in the darkness of the night, watching as Sean and Milly began their trip to the south. They had taken two thomases, riding atop the animals. At least it would make the trip easier.

Sean's transformation had surprised Meryl at first, though his reasons had been thoroughly developed. He looked exactly like the man she loved, all the way down to the red coat and spiked hair. Vash could be a complete goof at times, but Sean was as cool and collected a man as she had ever seen. It was probably because he hadn't experienced the darkness his predecesor had in his more than 130 years of life. Vash used his awkward personality as an escape from the knowledge of his existence. She mused over that fact as her friends headed south on their way back to Black Rock.

She thought back to the moment he had sat with them at the table and accepted a cup of tea from Milly. His plan was simple and complex at the same time. She had a profound respect for the man that she never just handed out, a respect Sean had earned.

_Milly and I are leaving,_ he had said.

_But why?_

_If Vash is right about the situation, these bastards are out there searching for the both of you right now. The best way to get them away from you would be for Vash the Stampede to make an appearance in a populated area._

Meryl had been shocked at first, and Milly had put words to a concern they shared: _But Mr. Stryker, wouldn't that be putting a lot of people in unnecessary danger?_

He had simply smiled and turned to her. _There're always risks, but it has to be done. For Vash. Besides, we won't stay anywhere long. Just enough to spread a rumor._

Meryl had to smile as the steam surrounded her and carried her away to her own, private dreamworld, away from the pain, the fear, and the dark gloom that hung overhead. At least here, she would be free to live her life, if only for a time.

* * *

"You _lost _them? What the hell do you mean you lost them?"

Morgante narrowed his eyes at the old man, on the verge of reaching out and squeezing the life from him. Just one quick twist and it would all be over… But Quinn was a man that demanded respect. Not even Morgante's anger could overturn his admiration for his leader. "We're still searching. We think they may have circled back to the south."

"South?"

Morgante nodded. "That's the rumor."

"Fuck." Quinn turned his back to the big man, scratching his jawline as he considered the possibilities. He couldn't see a reason as to why Vash would leave. It just didn't make sense. Maybe Ariel had done her job well after all. Not quite the results he'd anticipated, but workable, if they were careful. "I want the troops brought to the coliseum," he said quietly. A small grin played over his pale lips.

"Are you sure that's wise? It would take days to bring them here."

"We have days to prepare."

"Sir, they aren't ready yet."

Quinn shot him a look. "What's the matter, Morgante? Don't tell me you're losing your nerve."

"Hardly."

"Then why question my judgment?"

Morgante grunted. "Your judgment has nothing to do with it, Quinn. I question the competence of the troops." He clasped his massive arms behind his back. "They aren't ready."

"Your judgment?"

"My opinion, sir."

Quinn smiled. "Ah yes. The unequivocal word of Richard Stryfe. So tell me, Morgante." His expression grew sour. "What advice do you have for me given the present situation? Our target is lost and we don't really have the first clue as to his whereabouts. Worse yet, the Alpha Sample has disappeared again and Bane is eliminated. Our two finest samples. We were lucky enough for Ariel to return at all."

"Yes, I know."

Quinn slipped a hand into his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Morgante, though he knew his friend didn't smoke. Of course, the Gung-Ho Gun declined. Quinn would smoke alone this evening.

"Just get the troops out here, got it?"


	35. Interlude 4

INTERLUDE: from the diary of meryl stryfe

_July 25, Year 131, 5:17 p.m. – He's been asleep five days now. Mostly, it's a restful sleep, telling me his body is hell-bent on healing and not even the Devil himself is gonna be able to stop it now. Sometimes I lose him to the nightmares, but each time he finds himself and pulls his heart back to the comfort of this sanctuary's peace. _

_I can't even begin to express my gratitude for the people of this place. Ivan has given me nothing but hope since the moment we arrived. He is a kind man, worthy of the title of noble. That's what they call him. A nobleman. He is one of the wealthiest men I know, and I'm not talking about the wealth of riches or property. The people here love him, and he loves them. I think Vash would agree: his wealth is in his love for obligation. I've never seen a man so determined to help his people prosper. He's a big man with a big heart, though not quite as big as Vash's._

_I spent the night at his side again. I find it difficult to sleep, knowing that any day now he will wake and peer out toward an unfamiliar world. Will he remember those pivital hours that brought us to Eden, or will his tortured thoughts choose to walk a darker trail? It's hard to say, really. I know only that I must wait at his side, and be there for him when he wakes._

_I spend my free time fretting over Sean and Milly, wondering where they are, praying they're all right. I trust in Sean to do the right thing; we have known him only a short while, but if there is anything about him, I know we have gained his trust, and he had most certainly gained mine. They'll be okay, so long as he keeps his head. But what about me? My head is on a swivel, and I'm constantly lost to my thoughts. Mercia helps me with Vash as much as possible, fixing our meals and tending to his wounds every morning. She's a sweet person; I'm so grateful she has given us her home to help support Vash, grateful to Ivan for introducing me to this remarkable woman._

_Sometimes I wonder, if Vash and I had come to know each other in another lifetime, would we have ever come so close as we are in this one? Somehow, I find that impossible to believe. Maybe my pain has collapsed down over my soul and crushed my imagination. I just don't know, and the truth is, I don't think I could ever know. I guess all that really matters is the here and now. This reality and no other._

_But still, I wonder. What if?_

_What if?_


	36. Chapter Thirty One

THIRTY-ONE: pee dance

"How was your day, Miss Meryl?" Mercia asked as she slid a tray with a basket of freshly made dinner rolls and a container of soup.

"It was wonderful," Meryl said. "Mr. Bosovich is such a nice man. He took me to the mill today. I've seen more in five days than I did in twenty-five years on the outside."

Mercia glowed at the compliment and leaned against the counter. "Yes, Mr. Bosovich is a great man. It is a wonderful life. I'm so lucky to have such a home." She was a young woman, barely out of her teens. In her kitchen, she wore her long red hair up, save for a single, flowing lock that fell over forehead and played against her left cheek. She was a woman who enjoyed colors, and it spoke in the way she dressed. Her dress was blue with a splattering of yellow flowers, along with a golden belt that hung from her waist. There was no need for makeup; her slender, feminine figure, highlighted by colorful clothes and playful attitude spoke volumes for the woman's appeal.

"What's it like?" Meryl asked. "I mean, I've never seen anyone else in this house. Don't tell me you live in this big place all by yourself."

"It was my parents' first home. They built it when my father came here years ago. He was the last outsider ever given refuge here, before you and your friend."

"And where are your parents now?"

Mercia averted her eyes. "I don't know."

Meryl frowned. She reached out and took the girl's hand. "What do you mean, you don't know?" she asked gently.

"They were banished from here six years ago. I've lived alone ever since." Her shoulders drooped. It was the first time in her five days here that she'd seen Mercia troubled over something. Her heart ached for the girl.

"What did they do to deserve banishment?"

Mercia shrugged. "I don't know."

Meryl lowered her gaze. "It's a lonely world, to lose your family. I know. Wherever they are, I'm sure they're proud of you."

"I know they are. If they're even alive."

Meryl understood. The outside must seem so distant and dangerous to a girl like Mercia, a girl who had barely set foot outside her own home all her life, a girl who knew only the paradise that surrounded her since her birth. Whatever her parents had done to deserve banishment from a world like this must have been something simply dreadful. Meryl wondered what it could possibly have been.

She reached out and touched the girl's shoulder. "You're a brave girl, Mercia. Thank you for taking us into your home."

"Oh, anything for you and your man," she replied quickly. "How is Mr. Vash, by the way?"

Meryl grimaced on the inside, though her smile remained true. The villagers had suspected Vash was her lover since their arrival. Though true on some levels, it still put her on edge to hear it in the words of strangers. Meryl was a private person, and here she was talking about her love life with people she really didn't know. "Better, I think. He still hasn't regained consciousness, but he's resting peacefully. He should wake any day now."

Mercia smiled. "I am glad for you. I will make donuts for him, when he is well."

"Well, thank you," Meryl said politely, lifting the basket and soup on tray. "And have a good evening. I'm going to see to Vash and take a nice, hot bath."

"Good night, Miss Meryl."

She quickly left the kitchen, strode down a long, shadowy hallway to the narrow staircase leading to the second floor. The windows on the right wall, let the light of the sunset spill against the left wall, casting the hallway in a hazy, orange glow. Meryl thought the evening was beautiful here. There really wasn't much about the place she didn't think was beautiful, other than the fact that Vash wasn't awake to share it with her.

She had known he had been battered pretty good during their journey from Black Rock, but she hadn't thought he would be down and out this long. She took a key from her jeans and slipped into the room. It was small room, though Meryl suspected that this place had once been an inn, as each room on this floor had four doors, including two closets, a study, and a bathroom. There was only one bed, a small table, a washbasin, and a dresser in the main room. The finest feature, she thought was the tall window in the corner of the room, highlighted by silk curtains and a built-in, leather-cushioned loveseat.

He hadn't moved an inch since she had left earlier in the day. In fact, he hadn't moved at all in five days, except for the occasional rise and fall of his chest in the form of a slow breath. His hair was a tousled mess, and he needed a bath more so than she did, though she had sponge-bathed him as best she could each night. She'd be sure to have him wash when he woke, whenever that happened. She prayed it wouldn't be too much longer.

She set the meal on the table and took the pin out of her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. It was several inches longer than it had been the day she had found him back at Black Rock. She wondered if he would notice. She approached his side, taking a washcloth from the bowl at his bed. As she had promised, Mercia had brought fresh, ice-cold water. Meryl squeezed some of the excess water out of the cloth and mopped up the sweat from Vash's forehead. She gazed longingly at him, waiting desperately for him to stir from his slumber. He didn't. Gently, she kissed his forehead.

"I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

She held his hand briefly and then turned toward the bathroom, leaving him alone.

* * *

He stirred after some time, and found himself staring at the ceiling in a strange room. He glanced about, trying to determine where the hell he was. He was naked above the waist, and he could feel the terrible scars that riddled his body as he rolled his fingers against his torso, scars he would bear the rest of his days.

Slowly, as he shifted in bed, he began to remember the events that had brought him to this point. He remembered departing the cave within the small canyon and the strenuous walk across the desert, clinging to Meryl and Milly like a babe would cling to his mother. He thought of the underground lake they had discovered and the wondrous Eden that lay just beyond. Eden? Were they truly in Eden?

He yawned. Damn, was he tired. He glanced about, smacking his heavy, thick tongue against the dry roof of his mouth. "Ah, man, I need water."

_Worse yet, I gotta pee._

He shook a bit, hating having to get out of bed. He still ached something awful and the last thing he wanted to do was move around. Thankfully, his injuries seemed to have healed a great deal since he'd slipped into the blissful darkness. Rubbing the side of his face, he wondered how long he'd been out.

With a groan, he sprung from bed, doing a pee dance as he darted sporadically across the wood floor, fighting to hold it in. He checked several doors to no avail.

"Oh man! You'd think a place this small it'd be easy to find a bathroom!"

Finally, he threw open the last door and saw the porcelain god waiting for him across the room. "Oh, thank God!" He hopped on over, tearing open the fly of his trousers. Instantly, the relief began to fill his soul. He leaned back, sighing heavily. He was rejuvenated. "Oh, yeah… That's the stuff."

"Vash!"

The man's cry of surprise echoed through the bathroom as he spun on his hip toward Meryl's voice. His mind raced as he saw the former insurance girl sitting there in the tub, gaping at him. His hands went to his fly as he raced to cover up. His face flushed as he pulled up way too fast and caught himself in his zipper.

"Oh shit!" In that moment he slipped and crashed unceremoniously to the floor. Twitching a little as he tried to regain some composure, the Humanoid Typhood turned his eyes slowly over to the girl peering over the side of the tub at him.

"Vash! Are you alright?"

He grimaced. "Geez, guess I shoulda knocked, huh?"

Meryl hid a smile, laying her face against her arms as she lay them against the side of the tub. Vash shifted around, attempting to cover himself. He sighed, relieved that he hadn't caused any more damage to himself, and shifted his eyes to hers. His face still glowed with embarrassment. He was disappointed by his own reaction. It had been too much like the goofball image of himself that he had created over the years. Still, she had surprised him, and that in itself was a little embarrassing.

In the past, she might have yelled at him, but not tonight. Instead, his eyes met hers, twin violet orbs that glistened beautifully not only with the expected concern but with love. He had to roll his eyes at the stupidity of the situation. "Damn, that hurt." He groaned slightly, cupping himself as if checking to see his was still intact. "Why don't I just blow it off with the angel arm? It would be more merciful."

Meryl groaned at his ill-attempt at humor, shaking her head, but then she flashed him a caring smile. She felt giddy and playful at the situation. He shook his head and found laughter, pure laughter for the first time since the day they had come back together at Black Rock. He turned his eyes back to her and grinned. "They say I can get myself out of the most impossible situations imaginable," he said, rising to a knee an sliding closer to her so that he stared into her eyes. "I guess they forgot to check the story from all possible angles, cause I'm impossibly in love with you…and I don't think there's any way out."

It was a cheesy line, but it was the best thing she'd heard him say in a long time. She wondered if maybe he was healing in more ways than just physically. Her smile grew, but the look in her eyes was more than playful. It was almost demanding, in a gentle sort of way. Slowly, she inched her face forward and pressed her lips to his, only to pull back and giggle at the water she left on his face from her dampened hair.

He smiled. Slowly, gently, he reached out and took her face gently in his hands, guiding her lips back to his, kissing her tenderly. How can a man so awkward in life transform into something so utterly different—so warm, so gentle, so graceful—on cue? she wondered silently. There were so many sides to his character it could be frustrating, sometimes even frightening. He hid away that side of him, closed it off so that he could spend as much as he possibly could on just being Vash. Now, his kiss revealed to her the hunter he so often claimed to be, the seeker of the elusive mayfly known as love. He had finally caught it, holding it between them, never to let it go.

He broke the kiss after a time, his forehead pressed to hers as he stared into those lovely, violet eyes. He brushed the long, wet strands of hair from her face and gazed into them. "Thank you," he whispered.

Her smile was gone, replaced by silent longing as she stared back at him. His hands were gentle and kind against her face, holding no demands, just a cherishable moment meant for them to share. She ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it back against his skull. "There's no need to thank me," she whispered. "Can you hand me the towel?"

Vash didn't say anything, holding the moment a bit longer before he rose and grabbed the towel. She didn't have to ask; he turned around to give her the privacy she needed. He was a gentlemen in more ways then she suspected he realized. It made her smile as she pushed against the side of the porcelain tub and stood, wrapping the towel around her, concealing her slender, tiny form from view.

"Alright, I'm decent," she announced, lifting a foot a foot from the water to get out of the tub. It all began with those few words. Vash started to turn as she wavered and lost her footing. Vash's injuries were not completely healed, but that didn't keep him from getting to her. Unfortunately he stepped in a small puddle of water and his legs slipped out from under him. Meryl fell back into the bathtub, towel and all, pulling Vash right along with her. They splashed down into the hot water, sending a tsunami of bath water spilling over the sides of the tub to the vinyl floor.

Instantly, he found her eyes, concerned. "Are you alright?"

But Meryl was laughing, placing a hand over her mouth, face flushed at the situation. She was sure it looked a hell of a lot worse then it really was, despite the dull ache in her back. Eventually she caught herself and, grinning ear-to-ear, nodded, fighting to contain the laughter that threatened to consume her again. "You?"

He shook his head, blushing as he gazed down to her. When he realized that they had sustained no permanent damage in the fall, he rested his forehead against hers once more and laughed softly. He was so happy to be with her, despite their overwhelming lapse in coordination, that his recent injuries were all but forgotten.

"I couldn't think of a better person to fall over," he teased, and kissed her gently on the nose. She giggled at the corny line, something only Vash could make sound like the best compliment in the world. His smile, the true smile that Wolfwood had adored, crossed over him. His face glowed, but he wasn't embarrassed. This time there was nothing but joy in his heart.

He started to rise, but paused, seeing her lying there, draped in a towel that was pretty well useless. Instead of getting up to let her out, he leaned forward, his body against hers, and pressed his lips to hers. By damn, he wasn't passing up this moment, and a kiss would be more than enough.

He felt Meryl's hands against his biceps, gazing up to him with a look on her face that he'd never seen before, and he was struck. Her hand went to his chest, and he was certain that she was about to push him away, but instead the hand waited there, and gently caressed his skin. Then her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She lifted her knee, placing one foot on the rim of the tub so that her thigh rested against his hip in an intimate gesture. A single hand ran along his back, but she didn't feel the many scars that marred his flesh; she felt only the smoothness that was Vash the Stampede.

The kiss persisted, intense love binding them with forces unseen by the naked eye. Only eyes guided by the heart could ever understand such unabated passion. Memories shifted through his thoughts. Girls he had followed about like a puppy on a string. Mary Anne, Elizabeth, so many others that Meryl and Milly had never met, but none of them had ever held his heart as she did in the palm of her hand. Meryl possessed him like no one ever could. His hands rested against the small of her back, gently massaging her through the wet towel that was still wrapped around her. His lips parted ever so slightly from hers, and he met her eyes.

He would fight for her, and she for him. Nothing else had ever been so plainly evident to him, so obvious. His heart pounded, and he was certain he could feel the vibrations of her own tickling his scarred chest.

He returned his lips to gently cover her face with tender kisses. He spoke quietly between every kiss. "Oh, Meryl…I love you…I need you…always."

It was the way she felt at that very moment, the very feeling that left her believing she was more than who she truly was. It turned a peasant into nobility, it made the weak strong, it made being draped in a wet towel similar to being dressed in the finest silks and satins. She opened her eyes in small slits to watch him, his face, his mouth, the emerald sea behind his eyes. She held his gaze for a long time before she cast her eyes downward, a heavenly blush invading her cheeks. "Vash," she said, and kissed his nose. "I love you too, but…" She kissed him again and smiled, repeating it between each of her next words: "We're…in…a…bathtub."

He smiled as she gave him one final kiss and touched her cheek. "So we are," he whispered. Then he lifted himself out of the water, offering a hand to help her up. The longing in his eyes had faded to simple pleasure. He was satisfied that he had been set here before her on this world, handed over to her by the blessed hand that brought him into the world. His thoughts drifted momentarily to that day on the cliff, overlooking the desert where Knives had waited for him, eager for that final battle where Vash would be given that one, final choice.

Meryl too had given him a choice that night. You can stay here as long as you like.

He had said that maybe he would, and that it didn't sound like such a bad idea.

But he had been forced to face Knives first.

When that was over, he had walked away. He had come so close to loosing this moment, loosing this time, that it hurt. When he brought her up he surprised her again, lifting her into his gentle arms. At first, she tried to protest, but he didn't seem to be listening, so she simply relaxed in his arms and lay her head on his shoulder as he carried her from the room. Soon, he lay her on her feet at the bed, holding her until he was certain she had her footing. Then, trailing his finger along her chin and down the flesh of her throat, he took his arms from her.

He watched her with hungry eyes, and held her gaze with his intensity. There they stood, waiting, trapped in one another's eyes. It was the only imprisonment where Vash truly felt at home, and he didn't ever want to look away.

She parted her lips to speak, but no sounds came forth. Those moment, those precious few where nothing was said, were the moments Meryl would forever lock in her heart. It was a peaceful dream that could not be altered by the density of words. Instead, she breathed deeply, letting her chest rise and fall as she gazed to him.

He smiled down at her, seeing her trembling due to the cold, though he suspected she might be trembling for other reasons as well. He took his hands and rubbed them briskly against her bare arms, returning as much warmth to them as he could. He drew her close and kissed her once more, a slow and gentle kiss.

Then, he drew away to gaze at her. She watched him back and swallowed, staring up to him. She waited, wanting, but what she thought would happen didn't. "I…thought you should take the bed tonight," he whispered. "You look tired. You need to get some rest."

"No," she whispered throatily. Her voice seemed to tremble with the shivers that still racked her body. "No more distance." She balled her hands into tight little fists, closed her eyes, and sighed. Then she lifted her hands to the towel and gave it a gentle tug, allowing it to slide from her body and drop to the floor with a soft plop, revealing the whole of her to him. Vash simply stared down at her, dumbstruck. She reached out and took his hands in hers, pulling him gently toward her. "I wish to share my life with you…all of my life. That includes a bed, Vash."

For a long moment, he stared down at her. His world froze in time briefly, and he wondered how it had been for Milly and Wolfwood, when they had shared their precious little time together in the same manner that Vash was still too hesitant to try. He had seen it in the bright pink of Meryl's cheek that she wasn't quite ready, either. When she insisted that he stay with her, it brought him a good deal of uncertainty.

"That would be fine, but my pants are wet and we don't have another pair that'll fit me," he said finally, giving her a look attached with a small smile. "Which means I'm in my birthday suit."

Meryl smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. "What do I have, a full-dress uniform?" she teased, though she blushed furiously as she considered the prospects of the situation. "I won't look, I promise."

She looked to him. He watched back.

"I only have one question," she whispered, and lay her head on his chest. "I know I love you. I know you love me. For all we know, this is our last night in Eden together. If tomorrow it all ended, would you have any regrets?"

He wet his lips, unable to find words to answer her question.

She wrapped her arms around him. "It's a tough question. I don't think I can answer it myself."

"If you keep your vision clear, you will see the future."

She looked up to him, her eyes glistening. "What?"

"Something that Rem said," he whispered. He stroked his fingers gently along her spine. His touch caused her blood to boil and quicken in her veins. Her own reaction shocked her, but it didn't frighten her the way she thought it would. "Meryl…" There were so many things racing through his heart at that moment, he wasn't sure what to say. He blinked, lost in his thoughts. "I just don't—"

She stopped him there, before he could go any future, before he could finish any question that plagued his mind. She stole away that one chance to end it before it could begin, seizing that one opportunity before it could simply fade away. She wouldn't let that piece slip through her fingers, with thoughts of the time Milly and Wolfwood had shared in her heart.

Her heart thundering in her chest, she threw the last threads of caution to the wind. She parted from him only to gasp for air and reclaim what was hers, what was needed for survival. She felt Vash as a drug to her system and she wouldn't stop until she had what she needed to continue on her own. She had no worries at all from the people of this village, no thoughts of the world beyond. None of that mattered now.

She ran a hand down his back, along the sensative skin of his side, her other hand laid protectively over his heart, shielding him from any pain.

Vash felt strangely like a slave to her touch. It was a slavery he welcomed, a slavery he cherished. She touched him in a way that was beyond tender, as if the hand of God itself had parted the heavens and scooped him up into his almighty embrace. He had once overheard Rem call himself and Knives angels, long ago while he was but a boy on the Project SEEDS ship. No Rem, we weren't angels. We were star-crossed voyagers who were lucky enough to be held in your embrace.

He felt her every curve as he lowered his hands from her back and let them slide to the swell of her hips. He savored the taste of her lips against his and could smell the sweet scent of lilacs in her hair. He tried to think if he had ever stopped to consider the way she smelled before but it didn't really matter. He did now and he was overjoyed that he held her in his arms.

The kiss seemed to last forever. Meryl took short breaks to gasp for air, but she always returned to him with more hunger than the moment before, more desire to be with him and to feel the pressure of his lips against hers. He came to see her as his angel, not vice versa. She was the one who had guided him along the path to his salvation, whether she understood or not.

He was done waiting.

Vash closed his eyes and took in the moment, breathing in her scent, eager for her touch. She trembled as he once more took her by the hips and drew her even closer than they had been a moment ago, all the while feasting on her now-swollen lips. His heartbeat raced along with hers, reminding him of the sound of a thousand horse hooves pounding down on the desert floor. His breath faltered in a passionate moan as he broke the kiss, glancing down the length of her nude body ever so briefly before returning to those glistening violet pools.

Her hands trembled against his scarred flesh.

What next, Rem? What right do I have to this heart?

He knew exactly what Rem would say. If Meryl was so willing to turn it over to him, then he had every right to do with it as he pleased. To turn her away would be nothing short of rejection, and Meryl didn't deserve that.

He slowly lifted a hand to his chest. "My heart," he whispered, fixing her with his peircing, emerald stare. He reached out and lay the palm of his other hand to the delicate flesh of her breasts, where he could feel every pulse of her racing heart. He peered longingly into her eyes as he continued, "belongs to you. For so long as you will have it."

Now the tears fell freely from Meryl's eyes, and he knew that he had stolen her heart once more.

The realization sent tears of joy pouring down his own face.


	37. Chapter Thirty Two

THIRTY-TWO: see the future

He sent trails of fire across her skin as he ever so gently trailed his fingers along the soft skin of her body. When he placed his lips to hers, he became a part of her, an extension that she couldn't live without. Each second they were apart was another moment her heart stopped and waited for the connection that gave it life, gave it feeling. He inhaled deeply, brought her into him, into his heart, his life, the same way she drew him into her—wanting, needing, branding him into her heart forever. He cradled her against him like a mother would her child, protective yet with an inner meaning that held so much within that it almost threatened to devour her completely.

She pulled away from him only to replenish the air she so desperately needed. Survival was more than the beating of her heart and gasps of air she fought for; survival came in the form of Vash the Stampede. She wondered when it had all changed, when everything in her life began to include this man. But it didn't matter how it had come to be, only that it did. To her, Vash was more human than anyone she had ever met. Despite what he thought, what he knew, Vash was more real than anyone she had ever known. That he was here, that he had chosen her, meant more to her than anything else that might have mattered.

Vash had given her a precious gift that she could not forsake or turn away. No matter where this journey led them, she would be there, beside him, until it had all played out. This one moment was only a glimpse of what heaven could be like. Vash was a piece of heaven sent to her from the stars 132 years ago, and so many times she had been a fool who would not realize the truth. Now there were no more foolish moments. There would be no regrets. She would make sure of that.

_My heart…belongs to you. For so long as you will have it._ It was the action, the words, that left her breathless, and for a long time she could not respond.

After he spoke those words, his hands returned to her sides, resting on her hips to pull her against him. Despite the differences in their height, they fit together perfectly, two pieces of a puzzle in the grand scheme of life finally coming together to lock in place. It was so right, all of it. Every moment, every touch, every cry that separated them and every grasp that pulled them together again was right. Her head lifted against him, a single hand trailing from his cheek to rest at the back of his neck. Heat pulled from the both of them, but the effect that had on them seemed refreshingly cool.

_Star-crossed lovers._

The phrase echoed over in her heart again and again, that she was from this place and that Vash was from another that she could never understand, save for staring at the stars above and wondering about each and every one of them. Vash himself was a wonder to her, and as she slid her hands across his chest, she mapped each and every scar that mattered nothing to her, but so much to the man that owned them. She was brought back to him, drawn by the passionate sound that escaped his throat, voiced into a the heated air like a call only she could hear. She raised her eyes to watch him. They were filled with a hidden need she could not yet express. She struggled to breathe, her chest rising and falling with each raspy breath. It felt like the span of a million years as his gaze gently traveled over her form, though she knew it had only been a mere moment.

"For all eternity," she whispered finally in answer to his oath. "I would offer you my own, but you already have it. You took it from me a long time ago."

And then she took his hand, pulling him with her toward the bed that they had been offered while they stayed in Eden. In the beginning she had seen it as a place where she would attain the rest she had been robbed of while Vash recovered from his wounds, but the gaze she held now spoke nothing of sleep. There was no weariness in her heart. Her eyes raised, taking aim for his, and she saw the things she never thought she would feel reflected in the eyes of this one man. "You have more than my heart," she admitted. "You have my soul."

They were her final words before she pulled him down to meet her gaze, and placed her lips gently to his own.

She was lost in the bliss of a single moment.

* * *

The past was forgotten, the future irrelevant. He was lost in the present, here in her arms, falling into a world he had never known existed. He was so proud to be here with her, so touched that they could spend this time together, without regret, without doubt, without fear. All of those emotions were washed away with the feel of her, the taste of her. It was her, the love of his life, who sent a swell of fresh emotions spilling through him, emotions he hadn't even known existed. He found that he couldn't begin to describe the feelings racing through his heart. All he knew was that they were the best of emotions, and he never wanted to feel any others for as long as he lived.

He was as gentle as he had ever been as he allowed his fingers to trail over her sensitive skin. It broke his heart that he had made her wait so long. She stood there, beckoning him with soft, violet eyes. The moment that she took his hand hers and guided him toward the bed, he realized that the wait was finally over.

He saw the hunger in her eyes as she lowered onto the bed, his hand gripped tightly in her own. He'd never known she had such an iron grip. Nonetheless it was a hold he knew he could never break, even if it were as fragile as a paper chain. Their eyes met as he lowered his body next to hers. He found her lips again and pressed his mouth hungrily over hers. They were truly two hearts bound into one, two bodies forever connected, no matter how far apart they would ever be. Here, together, he knew that their souls would be eternally merged, no matter what happened beyond this point in time.

Passion and reason became one and the same. It only made sense, her body in his hands, awaiting his touch. _If I knew what I was doing, I'd be doing it right now,_ he thought, remembering the line fondly as their kiss lingered. He let his hands brush over her flesh, teasing her with his gentle touch as he lost himself in her love. For the first time in his life, he was eager, willing. Meryl had shown him compassion long ago, when she'd discovered the hundreds of scars that covered his body, and she seemed to take it upon herself now to kiss them all away, to heal the pain with her touch.

He wanted to kiss her, desired to feel her tender flesh in his hands, longed to please her in his own way. This would be a single moment that would soon blossom into the happiest of nights.

A perfect moment.

Impatience was a virtue only a true lover could possess in a moment of fiery passion. It was a virtue that Meryl had possessed all her life behind the somber mask she wore from day to day. Here, in this moment, she had shed away all that she hid beneath that mask and left herself exposed before Vash, allowing him to see who she really was. She was bare but for the single cross still draped around her slender throat. Her hair was matted to her face with perspiration.

He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, clinging to her left hip with his real right hand as they lay next to each other. He gave her an easy push, rolling her over until she was flat on her back. He moved with her, watching down over her, shifting his body until he was on top of her, gazing down upon her with hunger in his emerald eyes, so full of life and lust. He felt the need for her burst through his soul.

His lips wandered from her mouth, delicately kissing away her unshed tears, grazing his lips against her eyes and nose, traveling down her cheek and neck and beyond, blessing her with the longing of a lover trapped in the deepest pits of despair. She let Vash take control with his kiss, the very fuel that fed the fire deep within her, that drew her so very close to him, reveling in the feel of his hand along her dampened skin. He was much like a zealous child, eager to explore the world that was her, eager to explore her every curve, each feature that made her who she was.

She knew she could not find him within the grooves on his chest and back, not within the deep emerald pools of his eyes. No, the truth of this man laid deep within the heart he had given her so graciously. She had locked it away, along with all the secrets and stories, still unable to pry beyond the sensitive layers it held. She would wait until he was able to tell the stories from his own lips, where she could hear them with her own ears. She longed for the day to come, but not now. Not at this moment when all that mattered were the feel of his gentle hands so delicate against her flesh. She let out a sigh that carried a sharp, high-pitched tone.

Could that be her voice—the one that seemed so impatient, so demanding—that cried out for more of the love that he was offering her? She felt trapped in her own ecstasy and she was not at all sure she ever wished to find her way out. Her nails tore down his back in a gentle yet seductive response to the shrills he was sending up her own. Her reactions were anything but timid and shy, as she shared the same hunger that she saw in his eyes as he commanded her with his touch. She knew there was no place for shyness now, not in a moment such as this. Her mind shut away from the world and her instincts took over her body. She gasped at his weight against her, no longer a burden as it had been on the day they had come to New Hope.

Meryl loved it all, reveled in the understanding that he was through waiting, through making her wait on him. All he had to do now was give her his all. His hand slid down along the flat of her belly, skimming over the softness of her hips, trailing to the sensitive skin of her thighs. His touch caused a sharp intake of her breath. There, he spread her legs gently, settling a knee between her thighs. He looked up to her, staring into her eyes, he rid himself of the final barrier. Meryl couldn't hide her curious behavior at wishing to see all of him, to know all that he was and experience all he could be.

He gazed down at her, reaching out to lift her jaw a little, so that she would look back into his eyes. "Close your mouth, Meryl," he said gently. He had to laugh as her face went crimson, and she tried to look away, but he had no intention of waiting on her. He reached down, took her cheek gently and found her lips again. Her embarrassment faded with the intensity of the kiss as her thoughts were washed away. The moment was surreal. He felt himself trembling within her hold. He'd heard stories, tales of how you were supposed to feel and what you were supposed to do. Here, he discarded them all and accepted the fact that he was Vash. As so many times in his life, he accepted that he would have to do it his own way.

Her knees cradled against his body, her eyes wincing as though expecting the pain of joining. He realized then that it wasn't at all like the stories he had heard. The men in the countless saloons who were willing to blabber on and on about their exploits with women knew nothing about emotion, and had no idea that they were committing themselves to a living and breathing being. He could feel Meryl's chest rise and fall against his own with her every breath, and knew without a doubt that she was not his slave, not his property. She was a woman through and through, and he was as much hers to enjoy as she was his.

He was hesitant at first, fearful that he might somehow break her. The look on her face told him not to be gentle, but Vash didn't know any other way. Finally he decided to forget about the consequences and settled his hands firmly against her hips. He bent down to claim a passionate kiss and then guided himself into her. It was a fluid and easy motion, without pain. Their soft moans in that decisive moment melded into one as he laid his brutally scarred body against her.

They lay there with limbs entwined, moving as one. Together, they were whole. Apart, they would always have this moment. For Vash, all the hesitation vanished from his mind as he took her, and she eagerly accepted him.

In the passion of the moment, Vash rediscovered himself, and at the same time he learned so much more about the girl beneath him than he had ever realized possible. It left him thunderstruck that such a straight-forward woman could have so many delicate, complex sides, so intricate he couldn't begin to describe them.

As soon as it had begun, it was over. Covered with sweat, Vash collapsed against her, enveloping her into his massive embrace. He set his face into the nook between her shoulder and neck and kissed her there. He could not let her go, would not. There was too much riding on this moment. If he were to let go now, he might never be able to find his way back to her.

"Meryl, I don't want to leave you," he whispers, and the tears came again. They rained down on her in torrents, a flood of emotion that wouldn't stop, drizzling over her sweaty, slender frame. "I want to stay with you forever. I don't want to die."

It was a revealing comment: Vash believed his days were numbered, and that Morgante's clones would be the end of him.

The moment broke gently with his words. Meryl opened her eyes, surprised to see the tears rolling down his face, hearing the pain in his voice. It was the fear that welled deeply inside him, tearing him apart to think that the end had come for them, and that this was just a brief glance to Eden before the sun burned out in their lives and ended their story. She tenderly set her hands to his cheeks and shook her head ever so slightly.

"Don't think about this, Vash. It's not the end. Even the darkest days have their light." He watched her and nodded, blinking his eyes. "We'll find a way to overcome this problem, just like all the others."

He nodded, never breaking his hold of her.

* * *

The night wore slowly on. Vash and Meryl lay together for a long while, never taking their eyes from one another for more than a handful of seconds the entire time. They were still lost in the moment, two lovers stranded between the stars with only each other to guide them home, as if they wanted to ever return.

Home meant they would be on the run again. Here, they were safe. Here, they were together. Who knew what life had in store for them? They didn't really care at the moment, as they were lost here in a sea of passion. They feared for their friends, presently on the road seeking to make life difficult for the enemy.

So many troubles stirred in Vash's thoughts. He didn't know exactly how long this life would last, only that it wouldn't be long before he and Meryl would be on their way again, to face dangers that neither of them truly understood.

Meryl let out a soft, satisfied sigh, allowing his fingers to trace along her body. Sweat glistened from each pore, but slid away from her features to leave her with a soft, hazy glow. Her eyes locked gently to his, knowing that there were so many demons left for him to fight, so many more than either of them yet knew. _When you cry, I'll wipe away your tears, when you scream I'll fight away all of your demons. I won't leave you at the crossroads, I'll hold your hand through it all because I love you, now and forever, for always. You will always have all of me,_ she thought as she watched him through the narrow slits of her content, violet eyes.

She closed her eyes and chuckled silently before batting her lids up at him with an impish smile. He had just cupped his hand over one of her delicate breasts when the question came: "I'm hungry. Want to go downstairs with me and find something to eat?"

His eyes went to hers, and he had to smile seeing that playful grin. It had been an unexpected question; he had been so intent on her that he'd forgotten that he hadn't eaten in…how many days now? He wasn't even sure how long he'd been out, but he suspected that it had been at least a few days. Not that it really mattered. He would rather spend the whole of his life here with her, holding her to him. She was such a perfect woman that even the call of food didn't sway him from her.

His eyes slid shut, and he breathed her in once more, so fond of this girl lying next to him. He smiled. "If you really want to get up, I'm game. But for once in my life, I'm not hungry."

Meryl laughed until he interrupted her with a passionate kiss, and together they rolled into a sitting position. She rose, giving him a playful shove as she walked away to retrieve one of the dresses the natives had let her borrow while she and Vash were here, and chose a small, green and white bundle. "You're clothes are in the top right drawer," she said, and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Oh Meryl." He sighed softly and moved over to the dresser she'd indicated, opening the top right drawer. His eyes fell upon a pair of black slacks and a black muscle shirt, and he realized for the first time why it felt so empty here despite the fullness Meryl had to offer him. Milly and Stryker were gone. He suspected he knew where they were, since he could easily find Stryker's clothing where Meryl had said his own were, and at the same time his own were nowhere to be found.

He had to smile at the realization and pulled out the black outfit.

After he'd dressed, he stood before the mirror and considered how much he looked like his young counterpart. He suspected that without his scars, they'd be identical. For a moment, he wondered how old the clone he'd fought back at the titanium fortress had been. Had he been created before or after Sean?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound the bathroom door opening.

"They left the day you lost consciousness. Stryker thought he should create a distraction so that no one would come looking for you here…so you could heal."

"Probably a good idea," he commented as he turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, draped in an elaborate evening gown, faded olive with a vibrant collage of white flowers and vines and leaves. The soft satin fell delicately each delicate curve. Her hair was up, though a few stray strands of her long bangs still fell down around her eyes.

Vash smiled and approached the girl, gently taking her into his arms. Neither spoke for a long moment. Then, Meryl rose onto her tiptoes and softly kissed his cheek.

"You're really that hungry?" Vash asked.

"No," she admitted, refusing to take her eyes from him. "But I think you need some fresh air. It's been a long time since you've seen the stars."

"All the stars I need are right here."

Meryl flushed and gently punched his shoulder. "I'll show you stars," she huffed, and then grinned up at him. She was still feeling pretty feisty.

Vash laughed. "Let's go," he said gently, linking his arm to her and guiding her from the room, as though he knew the place. He led her down the hall toward the stairs, down into the main hall, past the kitchen and toward the front door.

Outside, he watched the world about him, careful of the silence. The night sky was filled with thousands of stars. Only two of the planet's five moons were in view, neither being the Fifth Moon. He stuck his hands in his pockets, gazing about good-naturedly as stood next to Meryl. She watched him, her eyes sparkling.

"You're right," he whispered. "I needed this."

She smiled and took his hand. "Come on. There's some I have to show you." He glanced to her and let her guide him off the porch and out around to the back of the house. There, she held him close to her side and then pointed out towards the horizon. "I saw it earlier, just after Milly and Stryker left."

Vash let a low whistle at the explosion of color that marked the northern horizon. He'd never seen anything like it. He saw two stars, one with a hazy blue tail and the other with a hazy red tail, both seemingly wrapping around the other.

"Amazing, huh?" she said softly. "It's two stars practically in orbit around each other. One day they'll collide and eventually, when the remains combine, they'll make a new star."

Her voice was soft and almost gentle as she stared out into the night sky, leaning her back against the wall of the house. Vash leaned next to her, watching the sight with wide eyes. "It's wonderful." His grip tightened slightly on Meryl's hand as he stood there, gazing in awe at the two stars that were being drawn together by forces he couldn't possibly comprehend. Like himself and Meryl. "How do you know about it?"

As he stood there, Vash let his hand grip Meryl's tighter.

"My father, I guess." She smiled softly, never taking her eyes from the sight before her. "I don't know how he could have known. It's a miracle to see something like this, how two stars could merge and become something new. They end, and yet, they don't. Their stories just change. From two separate lives to one. It's hard to comprehend it all, the how, the why, but it happens all the same. It's not one destroying the other; they're just making room for a whole other miracle up there."

She stopped there and looked down at his hand and smiled. "It's like down here, with us. We're two stars in a great big sky, and they're trying to push us out. So we have to make room for our own miracle. If we have to fight, then that's what we do. No one ever has the right to take the life of another, but we all have a right to live. Vash, without you, I could never live. Without you it's not really living."

He nodded at her words, but said nothing. He took a seat right there, and she slid to the grass next to him, and together they stared up at the stars, leaning against one another. Emerald eyes shimmered in the darkness as he thought of the better times of his life. Most definitely, his time with the former insurance girls ranked at the top of the list. There were other times, but those were few and far between. He could honestly say he'd fallen in love with them before he and Meryl had actually fallen in love.

"We'll do it together," he whispered. Five long minutes had passed.

Meryl looked to him, a small smile on her face. "You promise?"

"With all my heart."

She shook her head, grinning, and raised her hands to his collar to straighten it. "Vash…what was it like? Up there, I mean?" She turned her eyes upward to the stars that crept slowly across the sky.

He smiled. "It was kind of like being in bed with you," he said quietly. "Wonderful and awe-inspiring and even a little frightening. It was an experience I'll take with me to the grave. But my favorite part was being weightless." He moved over and took her in his embrace. "It was sheer bliss, with nothing to hold you back. Gravity didn't mean anything up there. Sometimes, here, it feels that the weight of the world is on your shoulders. I feel that way a lot, actually." He grinned. "But up in space, the weight is gone."

"Zero Gravity. I've always wondered what it was like," she said with an airy tone, smiling and closing her eyes as leaned against him. She felt cherished even now, a feeling that seemed to create that wonderful glow around the two of them. "I envy you for that, Vash. You've lived a life that I can only dream about."

Her words broke his heart. "Don't envy me," he said flatly, gazing to her with bitterness in his eyes. The first truly hateful emotion she had ever seen in his eyes. "I wouldn't wish my experiences on anyone, Meryl. This life has had its rewards, but the path I took to get here was not an easy one." He sighed, and forced the hatred out of his tone. "I'm sorry. It's just that my life has more dark times in it than bright. It's hard to imagine anyone else in my shoes, especially someone I care so much for."

"Funny. I would've thought different, knowing you." She took his hand, the expression on her face turned sad and serious at the same time. "I know there are many things I have yet to learn about you…but you must know that I am here to listen. I want to know about the man I love. I want to know everything, the bad with the good."

There was a long silence between them. Meryl stared at his chest, unmoving, not sure of what to say or what to do. She simply held his hand tightly in her own and turned her eyes to his face to give him a gentle smile. In that moment, he rewarded her with another kiss. "Okay. I'll tell you all of it. A little at a time, for the rest of our lives."

Meryl smiled and nodded.

"If you keep your vision clear, you will see the future," he said quietly. The legendary outlaw peered up to the stars and he was certain he could see that future there, staring back at him. He smiled down on Meryl, convinced that all was right in his world for this one evening.

She smiled right back.


	38. Chapter Thirty Three

THIRTY-THREE: forgotten world

Vash and Meryl spent their time that night with each other, eventually finding the sleep both needed while wrapped up in each others arms. Sleeping a sleep that even the dead would envy. Morning's first light came and burned into the room, waking Meryl from the hazy dreams that had left a smile on her face for the length of her short slumber. She'd pulled herself from the bed as silently as she could, finding that the locals had left their clothing for them on the chair.

A flush filled Meryl's cheeks at the thought of someone walking in on them while they had been sleeping, but she saw no harm in it as they thought the two were married. She saw no harm in it otherwise, either, thinking the others could see the love that the two shared so plainly before them. She pulled on her underclothing and then her purple slacks she wore under her white cape. She couldn't remember a time the outfit had looked so nice, not even when she had first purchased the item so long ago.

Once she was dressed she slipped from the room, running a hand through her hair as she walked quietly through the halls, she was surprised to find the Mercia up already, cooking away at something that smelled as good as it looked. She turned a knowing smile to Meryl as she watched the girl walk in and handed her a plate full of whatever the stuff was, telling her to go back to her room and feed her "young buck" so that he could get up his strength. Then they could all sit down and talk a bit.

Meryl only nodded and turned from the room she had just barely entered, leaving with a plate of what appeared to be eggs in the scrambled style that had extra little things to it that made it look all that more enticing. She went back to the room and moved over to the bed, setting the plate on the nightstand as she waited for the smell to wake Vash. She knew she wouldn't have to wait long, though she suddenly wished it would last longer as she smiled down to his sleeping face.

* * *

He dreamed peaceful dreams, cradling Meryl in his arms, the woman who ignited those dreams in a fiery blaze of passion. It was a blissful sleep, and though he actually slept very little, it was the most restful night that he could remember. So deeply did he sleep that he didn't even notice when Meryl slipped silently from his arms, dressed, and then crept out the door with strained effort not to stir him from sleep.

The first sign of the new day was the warmth on his face when the sun poured down on him from the window as it peaked over the horizon. It was soon joined by the smell of eggs and ham and peppers and onions, a powerful mix of aromas that soon released him into the morning.

The first thing he saw when he pried his eyes open was the slender form of an angel, silhouetted against the silk curtains that rippled from the light breeze drifting in through the open window. She was a wondrous spirit who held his heart and soul in the palm of her hand. He smiled up to her, but said nothing. He just wanted to appreciate the moment for as long as he possibly could.

His mind drifted back to the moments of the previous night. He hadn't said anything, but he was utterly amazed by her stamina. She had been an ox. It made him laugh inside to realize that having been the first night for the both of them, they had absolutely nothing to compare the moment to. That brought yet another smile to his heart. He was glad there was nothing to compare it to, because he was certain that it had been the best night of his entire life, and for a man of 132, that spoke volumes.

Food soon got the better of him, and he sat up and accepted the plate without a word, giving her a smile that would melt solid rock. He took a bite, savoring every flavor as though it was his last bite in this world. Then, he prepared another bite and held the fork up for her.

Looking at him brought back memories of the previous night's happenings. Meryl felt a blush burning her cheeks, gazing longingly at the man she loved. Then she smiled and took the bite. She was surprised at how it tasted and playfully stole the fork and plate from him, raising her eyebrows suggestively as she stole another bite.

He arched his brow and laughed. "Who said that bite was yours?" he asked as he reached out and gave her a gentle poke on the shoulder. After a playful moment, he stole a quick kiss from her and they shared the rest of his breakfast. Whoever had fixed it was good, almost as good as Milly, but he had topnotch taste buds. Milly could cook circles around this woman.

He smiled at Meryl when he slid the plate away and adjusted in bed. He never tired of looking into those deep, meaningful eyes, especially now that their friendship had blossomed into something more, bursting into the intense love that the couple shared for one another. His heart simply yearned for her. He watched her eyes so intently as he reached out and stroked his hands through her hair, cupping the side of her face and tilting her head so he easily find her lips. His free hand moved to the curve of her hip and rested there as the couple lost themselves in the tender touch of a kiss.

She let out a giggle and wrapped her arms around him with a smile, gently letting her eyes close as she returned his kiss with a sweet passion that filled her veins. Eventually she pulled back, her face flushed and hot. "Vash, we can't stay in bed all day," she whispered, a tinge of regret on her face. She would have happily stayed there in his arms for as long as he would have liked, but she was sure they would have years of this ahead of them. "We have a lot to do today."

Vash simply nodded. There was nothing more to say about their future. They had said it all fiery passion of the night before. It was all far too much for mere words. He would rather stay here with her, the woman he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his mortal life with. But, as Meryl had said, there was a lot of work ahead of them, and most of it involved preparation for the battle to come.

He was still Vash the Stampede, still trapped in a world all his own, the only wall between the people of this forgotten world and the realm of chaos Richard Stryfe had created. He held his hand against her side for the longest moment, refusing to look away as if their eyes were connected by a delicate lifeline that would snap if he should happen to loose her gaze. There was so much to do, and so precious little time. After another tender kiss, he rose from bed and disappeared into the bathroom. When he emerged several minutes later, he was dressed in Stryker's black suit, his hair left down. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the effect of the disguise by standing it up in its normal fashion.

He moved to the table where his gun remained. He instantly realized that it was not his gun. He recognized Knives' gun without question. Black steel. He picked it up. Like an extension of his hand, the weapon sat there, dependent of its master. Vash drew a deep breath. How fitting Knives' own gun now found its way to him. He'd hidden it onboard the SEEDS shuttle about a year ago. Twirling the weapon on his finger, he slammed it into its holster.

His smile turned to Meryl, still sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Maybe we should have a look around," he said.

* * *

They soon found themselves engulfed by the outside world of Eden, walking through a patch of trees at the edge of the great, underground lake. His eyes were hidden behind Stryker's silver sunglasses. He couldn't help but steal glances of the woman next to him as they strolled through the miniature forest. She was far and away the most perfect woman he had ever seen. She was classy, intelligent, and well-mannered. Perfect in every way, and in the way they shared their life and love, it was evident to the world.

It was a life he thought could make him very happy. So long as they could continue to breathe, maybe it was also the life meant for them. He peered out over the underground lake and wondered for a time how he could show her the world as he had once seen it. For Vash, nothing seemed to come to mind. At least he could show her _his_ world, and maybe that would be all she would truly need.

He squeezed her hand and smiled down to her.

Meryl took notice that Vash had earned himself a few gazes from some of the women of the mysterious village, and Meryl couldn't help feel a twinge of jealousy at the situation. She knew it was a ridiculous sentiment, but she felt it all the same, squeezing his hand in a death grip as they walked through the trees to look around. Eden truly was a unique and beautiful place. She praised the Heavens he chose to share it with her.

Vash gave her hand a gentle squeeze and their eyes met. She raised a hand to push the hair from his gaze, and couldn't help but think that his hair was more stylish when it was up, easier for her to play with. The thought caused a crimson glow to spill across her cheeks and she turned away.

"I've never even imagined anything like it, Vash. To think that away from all the other places, there is something as wonderful and peaceful as this."

Vash smiled down to her, and then continued on, until they were a good distance away from the bulk of the town so he could speak softly without worrying that someone might overhear his concerns. He squeezed her hands in his and sighed softly. "It might be too early to be considering it peaceful. Something just doesn't feel right about this place." He touched her cheek, gazing with concern. "I'm worried for you, Meryl."

Meryl's eyes turned up and showed return concern for him. "I think you're right." She peered out over the mysterious lake. "I think he was here. I think the key my father gave me has something to do with this place." Slowly, she brought her hand up to gently stroke the cross about her neck between her thumb and forefinger.

"What key?"

Meryl blinked, and realized for the first time that she'd never shown Vash the cross that hung from her neck. Slowly, she grasped the thin chain and slipped the necklace over her head. She set it in Vash's hand and allowed him a moment to inspect the devise. After all, maybe he would recognize it.

But by the look on his face, she knew he didn't.

"The grooves around the lower stem," she said.

"I see it," he replied. "This is some kind of key, all right. But I don't know what it could possibly be a key to. Surely not a vehicle."

"Maybe it's some kind of lost technology," she said hopefully.

"Possible. Your father would have had access to it, thanks to Knives." He gave her a look. "Why didn't you show me this before?"

"I've only just learned about my father's link to your brother and the Gung-Ho Guns," Meryl replied. The smile she had worn only a moment ago faded, only to be replaced by a worried frown. "But when I did, I started thinking about what my father said when he gave me this cross as a gift." She slipped the necklace from his fingers and returned it to her neck, dropping the cross back beneath her blouse. "I can remember that he smiled to me and had me turn around so he could put the chain around my neck. He told me to be careful with it, and then he kissed my nose the way he always did and told me something I'll never forget. 'It holds the key to the entire world in it.'"

"God. How could he do that to his daughter?"

"I don't want to go back to that world, Vash. I just want to stay here where its quiet. Just for awhile, but I know that can't be. There just so much we have to do." She turned her gaze back to him, a genuine smile on her face. "I guess we just have to find what there is to find, and then worry."

"I think you're right. It only makes sense. All of it makes total sense." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Every bit of it."

He took her in his arms and sighed, peering with her out over the horizon. The two were lost in thought, him of her and vice versa. He felt betrayed by his own existence, if that were possible, and Meryl apparently fared the same.

"Damnit Meryl, just being near you is more than enough to throw me off my path. I'm just relieved that the new course seems every bit as intriguing as the old one." He allowed his eyes briefly trail down her slender figure, and shook it out of his system. A smile played on his lips as he considered one more thought that had come to him over the past few hours. "If we're going to be in this together, Meryl, I think you're going to need a bigger gun."

She looked at him, blinking. Something besides her derringers? She'd never truly bothered with anything else. "I have you," she teased. "You're the only gun I need." She seemed pleased with her response, but another thought filled her mind over something he had said and it left her silent a moment. She turned her concerned gaze out over the horizon. "Vash, about last night…" she said softly, a sudden trace of fear in her voice. "You don't think that will cause any problems or distractions do you?"

Vash blinked. He hadn't thought of any repercussions of the past night until she mentioned it. She seemed deeply concerned.

"Where we're going, I might not always be able to protect you," he said quietly, peering again to the darkened land over the underground lake. "You're damn good with your derringers and I respect that, but I don't see what good fifty little guns is going to do you against thousands of me." Shivers raced up Meryl's spine and she shut her eyes as she at the thought of a thousand men that all looked like the one next to her. It was hard enough to look at Stryker and barely tell the difference, but a thousand? It was enough to make her blood curdle. She was shaken from her thoughts as pressed a hand against her cheek. "Now, I have something in mind, but you're gonna have to trust me."

"Vash, I was talking about last night," she said, giving him a gentle push.

"Look, I'll never regret last night. What we did is only all that we deserved in that moment. They can't use the past against us, okay?" He took her by her shoulders, turning her so that she faced him, and brushed the hair off her shoulders so that it spilled against her back. He watched as her hair shimmered in the sunlight. It was a soothing sight. She averted her eyes to the lake, unable to meet his gaze. "We'll do this together, but in this you're just going to have to trust me. I'm through with pussy-footing around with these bastards, all right?"

"How will I even be able to tell you apart?" she commented quietly into the breeze that swept about her, mumbling the fear that surrounded her heart and coiled about her lungs, making it hard to breath.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Finally she raised her gaze to look at him and nod. "What do you have in mind then?" she said gently.

Vash smiled at her. _Using them this way is the only thing that gives them any meaning at all._ He glanced back to the horizon, touching Knives' angel arm magnum as he was lost in thought. Right now, it was the only thing within reason that gave him a shot at the army of Vash-clones. He was certain that if it wasn't done right, they would all die. He could do it right, but he'd need a lot of help.

"I'm going to teach you to use a sniper rifle," Vash announced.

She hesitated for a moment, turning her eyes up to him. "I already know how," she whispered, slipping an arm around his waist.

He gazed down on her for a moment, but didn't persist. He simply nodded and accepted the truth. "I trust you Meryl. Always have. You'll always do the right thing."

He brought his lips to hers and kissed her. It was a brief kiss, filled with emotion, filled with desire.

"Damnit, I love you. It takes all my available strength not to take you in my arms and hold you like we held each other last night."

He closed his eyes.

But there was far too much to do. Laying her in the grass and making love once more didn't seem to be very high on his list of priorities.

Meryl had to smile as a heavy blush crept up over her cheeks. She reached out and took his hand, and passed him a gentle look that spoke of promise for the night to come. "Let's go and get everything done that we need to and then we can have the rest of the time to fill of our own accord, all right?"

He grabbed her hand, kissing it gently, and nodded.

* * *

The world was spinning inside Vash's head. He was hard at it again, determining all that had to happen in order to meet the appropriate end along the day's journey. His heart thundered in his chest to know that Meryl was nearby making her own preparations.

One of the things that surprised him most in this world he called Eden was the total lack of lost technology. He would have thought that locating such a place would require it, but no, these people were here and such technology didn't seem to be as necessary as he had believed. Closing his eyes, Vash heaved out a long sigh. Behind him, Meryl was inspecting the sniper rifled he had rummaged up for her. Where he'd gotten it was anyone's guess, but now he had said it was hers.

Meryl lifted the rifle, closing one eye as she glared through the sight screen, it needed to be cleaned but other then that it was angled perfectly. She looked at the cockbarrel and examined it, cleaning it out slowly and then shifting it a few times until it cleared. Satisfied, she finally loaded the weapon and slung it over her shoulder, tying her cape about her neck to conceal the weapon from view and then looked back at him.

Vash, who was busy checking his hidden machine gun, let it slide back into its hiding place as she finished her own preparations. "It almost feels like we're running out of time," he whispered, meeting her gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a dangerous world, and sometimes in a dangerous world the big dog has a sharp bite. The best chance for the little guy is to learn to bite back." He looked to her, breathing softly. "We have to trust our own hearts, as much as I know we trust one another. We fight because we have to, but if we don't fight for ourselves as hard as we fight for each other, it'll probably be a very short fight." He snapped open the chamber of Knives' magnum and slipped in a fresh spool of bullets. "That means that we might have to trust each other to protect ourselves. One false move can be devastating. If a soldier turns to help a fallen comrade on the battlefield, most likely he will end up just as dead as his friend." He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Meryl?"

Meryl sighed and hung her head at his words as a stabbing pain pierced her heart. She knew exactly what he meant, knew what he was trying to tell her. The words that he refused to say were all too clear, though she knew she needed to hear them. She shook her head and turned away. He hadn't rightly said it, but she understood nonetheless.

_If I should fall…you can't turn and help me up. You need to go on, Meryl. You need to survive._

It was hard to imagine surviving without Vash and it was not a thought she was sure she could deal with quite yet. But she nodded her head, signaling that she indeed understand what he meant.

It had come across a little colder than he had intended for it, but it was something that had to be said. Vash rose from his seat and slipped the angel arm gun into his holster. He wouldn't go so far as to say that was the reason he had chosen a sniper rifle for her: so he could be her spotter on the field of battle and she would be back, away from it all.

He closed his eyes and rested back against the chair, wondering if at all they even stood the faintest glimmer of a chance against the coming darkness.

"What next? What am I forgetting?" he asked softly.

"Forgetting?" Meryl looked to him, frowning. "We must be a grim sight to see. Happy one moment and then the next we are so depressed. It doesn't seem right somehow. I just wish we could have a single moment of peace without a care."

Vash smiled at that.

The young woman gazed to the line of trees behind them, noticing that their shade had started to fade away. "I was just thinking about the villagers. Should we speak with them about the key?" she asked a moment later.

"Might be a good idea," he admitted quietly. He glanced her way and sighed. "I don't know. It seems the further we go the grimmer the situation. I'm beginning to wonder what it'll actually be like when we arrive." He reached out and took her hand. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

"You make me feel that I should be saying my good-byes to you now." She lowered her gaze so that she could look into his eyes. "Is that what you want me to do, Vash? To say goodbye so that its already said just in case something should happen?" Her grip was lax in his hand, cold, frozen. She closed her eyes a moment and sighed. "I'm sorry. It just seems like whatever hope that we manage to scrape together is knocked away a moment later."

"Hey, Meryl, we're gonna do this. You will survive, I promise you." He brought her hand up to his cheek. "I _promise_ you." He kissed her hand and drew her close to him one more time, holding her tight to his chest. "You will survive."

"Its not me that I am worried about though, Vash. It's not me that matters." She fell against him, clinging to him like a child might cling to her father, closing her eyes as the tears fall like rain down her face. "I'm not ready to say goodbye again, Vash. I don't think I can survive another goodbye."

And that was Meryl, truly down and broken Meryl, who couldn't deal with the prospects of what was happening. Of what could happen.

Vash had to smile. He held her to him as her tears washed the shattered pieces of his heart away. She was right; sometimes he could fail so miserably when in came to the heart. It hurt him so much to see her tears fall. He could think of only one thing to do in that situation. Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her head up so that she stared into his face, and began to slowly, gently kiss away her tears.

_Fight this sadness, this heartache. Together, our love can conquer the world._

He let the fingers of his free hand linger against her spine as his lips trailed down her face to her lips. He wanted her to forget their suffering, to understand his determination. He refused to go down without a fight. He would serve her just as he would serve himself. Through her passion he could find the will to defend the people of this land from Morgante the Warhead's treachery. Through her soul he could find his spirit, and that perhaps was his greatest weapon. That was one thing no damned clone raised without the love could possible attain.

There would be no defense, and Vash would find his victory there in a sea of blood. Whether some of that blood was his own or not didn't matter. The only thing he knew was that he would be the one standing in the end.

He remembered a promise to Knives, as he stood over his wounded body: _I…I will…survive!_ It was the same promise he insisted of Meryl now. No wonder she feared his words. "We can do this Meryl. We have to trust in each other and our love."

Meryl's tears drained from her eyes onto the wounds that opened in Vash's heart, burning the pain away there to make him once more wake up to realize that together they could overcome any obstacle that this life was going to place before them. The tears ran from her eyes until they ran dry and there was nothing left inside of her to cry. Nothing else to bleed from the wounds that she refused to show to anyone else.

Parents were suppose to love and cherish their children, and her father were out to rob her of the one true happiness she could claim to have found in this desolate wasteland that she had called her home for a mere 26 years… it didn't seem fair to her. But life wasn't always meant to be fair. She would live on, she could remove the obstacles that stood in the way of her and her happy ending. She would protect everything that she had to protect.

She refused to let this be the end. The tears had stopped their fall from her eyes and she looked towards the man she loved with a pain-filled gaze before he leaned down and kissed her tears away, kissed away the pain that was still threatening to break her.

"I trust you Vash. I'll always trust you."

"I know you do. It's just, so much of this world is shrouded in darkness, and the people can't seem to get over the stupidest of arguments. I've always believed that my role was to seek out love and spread it to the far ends of the world, but conflicting circumstances just never let up for even a moment."

He sighed, rocking her slowly in his arms.

"I don't ever want to loose you, Meryl. As much as I agree with you, that we have to continue to believe that this isn't goodbye, I can't for the life of me get my heart to accept that. I mean, we don't even know where he is. Something tells me he has a pretty good idea about us."

He sighed, dragging his thumb slowly against the flushed glow of her cheeks as she gazed up to him. His heart ached with longing, desire, but those same conflicting circumstances seemed to have an ironclad grip on his system.

"Meryl," he sighed, breathing in the name as if it were the sweetest breath of life. "I need you here with me. If you're with me, I can go on."

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her nose gently.

"Is that all?" she asked gently, a sad smile taking hold of her beautiful features.

Vash grinned. "It's already more than I can handle."


	39. Chapter Thirty Four

THIRTY-FOUR: all too easy

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing there?"

Milly froze at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. She stifled a scream but there was no doubting the surprise in her big, blue eyes as she stared back at her captor. When she saw him, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, hey Mr. Erickson. Didn't see you standing there."

The big man blinked, trying to figure out who he was looking at. He was getting up there in age, probably in his upper fifties, a heavyset and tall mechanic at the same time. His shoulders were twice as broad as most men. He wore a typical work shirt, faded blue jeans, and an old, grease-stained apron. The leather belt around his waist was filled with tools. His face was plump and slightly red, with a stubbled chin and a bushy mustache as white as the clouds. His grim expression lightened slightly when he recognized her. Milly figured the old man was a real good friend of Stryker, though neither had elaborated on their relationship since their arrival.

When Erickson saw who he was talking to, he smirked. "Oh, hell, it's you."

"I was just coming to check on the bike," she said matter-of-factly as she pulled out her handbag. "And Mr. Stryker wanted to know how much you were going to charge him this time."

"Oh, hell no. I don't charge Sean for nothin'. Man practically put me on the map."

"He did?"

He nodded. "Oh, hell yeah. Not all too often than one man shuts down a gang the size of the Black Raiders, especially in this backwater town."

Milly's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "The Black Raiders? I remember them from the insurance company. They used to cause a lot of damage out here."

"Hell, you don't know the half of it, little missy," Erickson laughed. "I don't know what this place woulda done without Sean's help."

"He's a good man. I've only known him a little while now, but he's been very good to me." The young woman sighed and let her face light up in a pleasant smile. "If you aren't gonna let me pay for the bikes, can you at least let me fix you dinner tonight?"

Erickson gave her a look. "You cook?"

"That's what my friends tell me, but I figure they're just really hungry."

He smirked. "Well then. Guess I gotta see for myself. I'll be there, and I'll bring Sean's bike with me."

"Mr. Stryker borrowed a friend's cottage…"

"Timmy Horn's old place across town."

Milly frowned. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

The old man's eyes twinkled down at her. "Hey, babe, I know."

* * *

Dodge Erickson was the big man in Desperation. His grandparents had been among the founders of the old settlement over a hundred twenty years ago, around the same time that the cities of July and December and August, and all the great settlements throughout the history of humanity on Gunsmoke were first erected. Desperation never grew like those over places, but it had succeeded where others failed. Despite all the troubles that the small town had suffered, the people of Desperation had never suffered. Even when the Black Raiders had come to town, Dodge had preserved the piece.

He had received help from Sean Ryker, who had faced the Black Raiders head on and sent them packing. Some had paid very dearly for causing so much chaos for the people of Desperation, but none had died. Ryker had reserved such terrible ends for the men who were truly dangerous to this world, men like Vash the Stampede.

Or so he had once thought. Now, Stryker was a gentler person, and getting to know Milly Thompson, Dodge wasn't finding it difficult to see what had brought the change in his friend. As best he could tell, Sean and Milly had traveled together over the past five days, and she had shared some of her past with him. She was a very precious woman, worthy of the happiness she held inside, a girl who let such happiness flow to all she came to know. Dodge felt at ease near her, and no doubt Stryker felt the same comforts.

And boy, could she cook. Dodge dug into the cornbread casserole as if he hadn't eaten in years. Truthfully, most of his meals came at the bar these days, the same as Stryker whenever he was in town, so it was the first home-cooked meal he had enjoyed since the death of his wife nearly a decade ago.

"What happened to Mrs. Erickson?" Milly asked when the subject came up. She set down her fork and gazed sorrowfully at their guest. They sat crowded around a small cardboard table in Timothy Horn's old, rundown shack, the little house he lent to Stryker whenever the gunslinger came to town.

Dodge sat back, rubbing his soar knuckles. "She got real sick," he said quietly. "It was one of those things that hit her quick and spread like wildfire. The cancer consumed her and within a couple months it had completely deteriorated her nervous system. She held on three weeks longer than the doctor's had expected. Always was a fighter, but she just wasn't strong enough for that one last battle."

Milly lay a hand on the old man's arm, tears welling up in her big, blue eyes. "Oh, Mr. Erickson! I'm terribly sorry."

The old man had to smile. "She didn't suffer long. She died too young, but she was happy with the way she lived her life. I was so proud of her, little missy. Never doubt she had a true heart. My Nessie went before her time, but she wouldn't want anyone to mourn her."

Stryker took a bite of his meal and chewed thoughtfully. "My foster parents were much the same way. I mourned them, but they would have been devastated if I had let their fate be my own."

"No," Milly whispered. "You could never've done that."

Stryker nodded. A small smile touched his lips.

Dodge lifted his glass, giving his friends a nod. He held the stein out toward them. "A toast," he said. "To good friends, old and new."

"Friends forever," Sean echoed, holding out his glass.

"And to loves lost, and hearts cherished through the end of time." Milly wiped her eyes and offered the two of them her best smile as she held out her glass. After the toast, they drained their beers. Milly wiped her mouth on her sleeve and stared to the tabletop. Dodge had to smile, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "I miss my family. I know you have to miss Nessie very dearly."

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could have one last moment to tell her how I truly feel."

Milly smiled. "She knew. You have to believe that."

The big man laughed, patting her arm. "Preach on, little missy. Preach on."

After the meal, the three of them cleaned up together, discussing the future. Stryker spoke of the troubles they were having with the remnants of the Gung-Ho Guns, though he didn't go so far as to admit that he had joined Vash the Stampede. He knew, of course, the truth of Vash the Stampede and how his own brother had used the dangerous band of outlaws to tarnish his name toward the ghastly end of mankind.

Of course, Dodge listened without fail. He trusted this man with his life, and he knew Stryker trusted him.

Regardless, that wasn't his concern right now. There were other, more concrete things to worry about.

"The Gung-Ho Guns really aren't my area of expertise," he said as he dried the last of the dishes and handed Stryker a cigarette.

The young man looked at the smoke for a moment and grabbed his matches.

"Do you two mind putting those things away?" Milly asked. "I really can't stand the smell of them."

Stryker sighed and returned the cigarette to his friend. "Here," he said.

Dodge gave Milly a look. "One of those types, hey, little missy?" He was smiling.

"It really is a nasty habit, Mr. Erickson. I'm sure Nessie would want you to live a long, fruitful life. Don't you think, Mr. Stryker?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I think so."

"What about another beer then?" Dodge asked.

Milly grinned and grabbed for the beer steins. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind a bit!"

* * *

"You have to tell it to me straight," Dodge said after a time, nursing his third beer since dinner, his fifth overall. His two friends were only one drink behind.

Stryker leaned forward. "Yeah, what do you want to know?"

"Tell me why you're all decked out in that getup, Sean. You can't tell me you dressed like _him_ for nothing."

Stryker shared a look with Milly. The girl shrugged. He looked back to his friend. "Bait?"

Dodge had to laugh at that. "Bullshit, Sean. You're protecting him, aren't you?"

Stryker lowered his mug. The two young friends shared a look. Dodge slowly rose to his feet. For a moment, the laughter faded from his eyes.

"It'll only be a few moments. Just relax, Sean."

The young gunslinger narrowed his eyes. "What's going on? Dodge?"

"Hell." A sinister grin slid over the big man's face. "Isn't it obvious? I'm doin' my duty to the big man."

Milly fidgeted. "Mr. Erickson?"

Stryker started to rise.

"That's about enough," Dodge said.

In the moment following, Stryker stumbled and fell face first into the table. Milly shot to her feet with a cry of surprise. Dodge spun toward her and delivered a right hook that knocked her flat on her back. She hit her head against the floor and lost all consciousness in that moment.

Grinning, Dodge shook his head. All too easy.

A dark shape appeared in the doorway. "Erickson."

"He's down. Send word to Quinn. I have the Alpha Sample."

The man in the doorway, one of the Quinn's hired guns, smirked. "Good job, old man. Didn't know if you had it in you."

"Quinn's been paying me for three years to do just this sort of work." Dodge Erickson, known amongst the Gung-Ho Guns as Eric the Watchman, lit his cigar, eyeing his handiwork with a growing smirk. "Think I've earned myself a little raise."

* * *

As the sun slipped down over the western horizon, Jet Black tossed his wrench and pliers back into the toolbox and trudged grumpily to the main living area aboard his ship. He found Edward in the corner, leaning over Tomato with the lazy pooch atop her head, lost in a flood of information that was no doubt useless to the mission. Rolling his eyes, Jet considered his question. He knew before he asked how fruitless the answer would be, but he needed to hear it for himself.

"Where are they now?" Jet asked.

Ed shrugged. "It's been pretty quiet, Jet-person. Ed and Ein are _sooo_ bored."

"Not _them_," Jet muttered. "I'm talking about Vash the Stampede and his grin. Quit playing around, will ya? Surely you have something about them."

"Still nothing, Jet-person. They walked out into the sandy place and disappeared. Edward can't find what Edward can't see."

Jet sighed. He leaned against the wall and shook his head. "All right, all right. I understand." The old man crossed his arms and sighed. Things hadn't been going well. He was to a point in repairs where he needed more than what he had at hand. Things that the people of this rock didn't very well have. At least, not at this point in their history.

Over the past week, he had sent Faye back to the city twice, once for fresh supplies and once more to pick up on the local news. While the information had given them quite a bit in terms of how the people this world lived from day to day, they still had no more on the one called Vash the Stampede than they had from the very beginning. It was all more than just a little unnerving.

From behind came the definitive sound of a lighter strike.

"Ya know, it's damn hard to get any sleep around here with all the racket, you two." Jet glared at his younger partner. Spike watched back with an almost neutral glaze in his eyes.

"You should be damn well rested, Spike! I haven't seen you all day long."

Spike grunted. "Maybe."

"Shit," Jet muttered, and pulled out a cigarette of his own. He checked his pockets, but was unable to locate his lighter. With a groan, he looked to his friend, who seemed barely awake and was nonetheless puffing on his cigarette. Jet needed just a few drags, to soothe his thoughts. "Hey, Spike, can I see your lighter?"

Spike tossed him the lighter, never lifting an eye or saying a word. As the old man lit his cigarette, his partner pulled his cigarette from his lips and exhaled. "Why is it I have a feeling things aren't going according to plan?" He flopped down on the couch and spread his arms along the back, leaning his head to gaze at the ceiling.

"Shit. Things haven't been going 'according to plan' since we left Ganymede." The old man shook his head. The only thing they had going for them, it seemed, was that the money was good even if the bounty was brought back in a million tiny bits, so long as the identity of the deceased could be proven. In the desert, where the man had to be, Jet was pretty sure there was no real chance at survival. He took a drag of blissful, calming nicotine. "Where the hell is Faye?"

"Do you really care?" Spike asked. "How touching."

"I'm serious, damnit. We gotta start somewhere if we're gonna make the money count."

Spike smirked, revealing that casual cockiness he had carried along with him over the years. Through the obvious pain he had endured through injuries and lost hope, it was a wonder he still did this for a living. _It had to be the money,_ Jet thought. _The money, and the thrill._

"By the way, they use a different currency here, right?" Spike scratched his head. He was thinking again, never a really good sign. "I mean, how do we know all this is worth it? It's not like we've seen an exchange rate on a damn double-dollar."

"Well, Faye spent forty double-dollars on groceries, and she got quiet a bit."

"We don't even know how she got the forty double-dollars."

"Faye-Faye is a tooty-fruity, great big knockers, sexy booty!"

Spike gave Ed a look. "Huh?"

"It's Faye," Jet translated, grinning ear to ear. "She probably just shook her ass a little and conned some gambler out of a pile of chips."

"Oh, that. Yeah, I guess." The young man ran his hands through his hair, groaning. "You're probably right."

Jet nodded his agreement and glanced to Ed. "You're sure you can't use this thing to find Vash the Stampede?"

"Nope. No signal Jet-person. Edward has tried everything, but there's some sort of interference with the scanner." She rolled about on her backside, staring at Tomato through her internet goggles. "Edward doesn't know what else to try."

"Well, if we can't find them digitally, we'll have to send the _Redtail—_"

"Uh-uh. No good!"

Jet stared. "Whaddaya mean, 'no good'!"

"Faye-Faye has the ship and she's not responding to her comm. She left three hours ago."

"Oh no…no no no! You've gotta be kidding!"

"No bullshit, Jet-person."

"Why didn't you tell me?" No response. Jet was moments from pouncing the kid and strangling her. "Well, where the hell did she take it!"

Ed shrugged. "North, I think."

Jet felt as though he lost a few more hairs as he flopped down on the couch next to Spike. "Sonuva…"

Spike chuckled as he shook his head. He leaned forward, resting his elbows and forearms against his knees. "Ya know, I'm not a bit surprised."

Jet glared at him and crossed his arms, disgusted. "Any bright ideas?"

"Not a one."


	40. Chapter Thirty Five

THIRTY-FIVE: oddly like wranglers

In the dark of night, the _Redtail_ sped over the desert. Faye Valentine leaned over the controls, puffing on a cigarette as she scanned the horizon with her infrared sensors. She was still thinking about Ed and her short conversation with the girl when she warned her that Jet was going to be angry. Well, damnit, Faye didn't give a shit.

_God damnit! Can't a girl get some fucking privacy? If Jet wants something done, he can do it himself._

Faye was sick and tired of being his damn errand girl. Screw Jet. She had better things to do, after all. Like finding Vash the Stampede.

Lady Luck had scored again earlier in the day, when she snuck out. Spike had been sleeping and Ed was lost in her own private cyberspace. Jet was working his tail off trying to fix up the _Bebop_, but what the hell did he think she was trying to do out here? They needed money and she was the only one doing anything about getting some.

She ground the butt of her cigarette out against the steering wheel, tossing it into the back of the ship. Her stomach tossed and turned but she had begun to suspect it wasn't hunger when a small flicker appeared on the dark red glass of her infrared sensor. Frowning, she turned her ship toward the strange little blip. _What the hell is that?_ she thought as she approached what appeared to be the ruins of a large city. As the _Redtail_ slipped past the remnants of a tall building, she knew she was looking at a place that just didn't fit with what she knew about the people of Gunsmoke.

Leaning forward, Faye took the initiative to explore.

As she looked for a place to land, she wondered just what the hell was going down on this miserable excuse for a planet.

* * *

Quinn chose what he called the City of Yesterday as a training ground for his genetically altered army because it was nonexistent as far as the general population was concerned. After all, it lay two thousand iles away from the fringe settlements. The only thing of worry that lay closer was the Millennium Arc and the underground lake, and at the moment he was concerned with neither. He preferred to consider true threats before he would ever worry about his lesser troubles. The one threat he thought about a lot of these days was a threat that his prestigious team had failed to locate. Vash the Stampede was still out there somewhere. Where, they didn't know, and that pissed the hell out of Quinn.

As he reached the balcony overlooking the training field, Quinn was joined by Morgante and Ariel.

"Starks radioed," Morgante announced as he walked with his leader to the ledge of the balcony. Together they peered at the army, bathed in the spotlights that lined the expansive building.

"Oh he did?" Quinn said nonchalantly. He seemed quite uninterested, and unless there was good news, he really didn't want to hear it. It was too early for bad news.

"The Alpha Sample has been recovered."

"Oh really?" The old man lifted his brow. "That is good news."

"Indeed," Morgante replied.

"He was with Vash the Stampede?"

"No." The big man lowered his eyes, no doubt disappointed to have to reveal that much. They had anticipated capturing both men at the same time. "They have one of his young friends, though. They are taking them to the Millennium Arc."

"Your daughter?"

Morgante grunted. "Her partner."

Quinn smirked at the younger man's disappointment. "It will be all right, my friend. Vash is only a temporary setback, just like Knives."

He leaned out over the ledge to peer down to his army. The compound in which they stood was a vast, open arena, so expansive that it could encompass five Roman Coliseums. Standing there, on the bare field, were tens of thousands of genetically altered plant-spawn, each born of a piece of flesh of Vash the Stampede, or a clone of him. None were younger than ten years old, none older than twenty.

Quinn felt Ariel at his side, peering down on the army with a sense of satisfaction. He didn't blame her. After all, she was the one who led this army into battle. So long, at least, as there was a battle to lead. The slender woman lifted her jaw, casting a sidelong glance to Quinn. Those piercing emerald eyes scanned all before her with a cold, calculating intensity.

He clasped his arms behind his back, shifting his almond gaze to her. "I'm impressed. Are they as sharp as they look?"

"Sharper."

"So we can make our move."

Ariel smirked. Her long braid was swept by the wind.

"We can be ready at daybreak."

Quinn arched his brow.

"Excellent. Then get them ready."

* * *

"Holy _shit_," Faye murmured as she stumbled back. Her infrared goggles slipped to the ground and shattered on the marble steps. She slipped deeper into the shadows of the building seating, shaking with undeniable fear.

Those soldiers. There was something about them, and it struck an undeniable chord with the young woman. They all looked so familiar. Each and every one of them. And Faye knew why. They were all identical, standing the same height, with the same build. Thin and athletic. She was certain that if they were wearing that same old brown poncho or the same black outfit, they would all look identical—well, close—to Vash and Stryker. One difference was the hair and the thin black strips that covered their eyes.

It couldn't be. It was a ridiculous notion.

At the same time, it all made sense. At least, it seemed to explain the existence of two of them. Vash and Stryker.

Admittedly, Faye was no rocket scientist, but she could have quite a vivid imagination if she wanted to. Her one question: was it all possible? There was no indication that any of these people had the ability to do the odd things that she was imagining right now. A genetically enhanced army, created from a single individual? It seemed the type of thing nerds wrote about in their science fiction stories. This was impossible. There was no way any of this could be true.

Yet there was no doubt about it. The evidence was right before her eyes.

It had to be. There was no other explanation. It would at least explain how there were two of them, though she had assumed they were twins.

She picked up her radio and attempted to dial the _Bebop_. After a few moments, she cursed and nearly threw the thing. Absolutely nothing. Not even static. She shoved the damn thing back into the case at her hip and grabbed for her sidearm. She was going to have to get back to the _Redtail_. At this point, she had no other choice. If she was going to let the others know what she'd seen, she'd have to tell them in person.

Quickly, she backtracked until she reached the stairs and peered down into the darkness with her infrared goggles. Nothing. Faye worked her way down, poised to face whatever danger might meet her down here. Luckily, she had no trouble on the stairs. Soon she found the main hallway and raced back toward the exit. If she could get out of here and back to the building across the compound, where she had hidden the _Redtail_, then she could get the hell out of here.

She ran as quickly and quietly as she could down the dark hallway, using the infrared goggles to pick the best path and watch for any threats that might come her way. It was the same as when she had gone off to find Mao, she realized. She had gone after a big bounty, laid squarely on the head of the leader of the Red Dragon syndicate. In the end, she had found herself at the mercy of the viper's jaws, Vicious. A man who, as far as she could tell, was Spike's nemesis.

Spike had saved her ass back then, as much as she hated to admit it. He was a ruthless, determined bastard, hell-bent on beating Vicious, but he had come. His presence that day saved her life. Even if that moment hadn't centered around her own life, she felt somewhat closer to the man, even if it were a one-sided emotion.

She wouldn't let him know how she felt, anyway.

Outside, she raced across the street to the building where she had left her ship. She didn't see anyone as she slipped inside the building, dashed up the flight of stairs, three stories up, to the rooftop where she had landed. Escape was all that crossed her mind..

She came to a dead stop right there. Two sets of eyes turned slowly toward her. Men, dressed in black, both looking oddly like wranglers.

The man closest to her froze in place. She could see the whites of his eyes with the help of her the infrared goggles. "Hey! It's her!"

"Get her!" a third man shouted, blocked from her behind the aft of her own ship.

"You! Hold it right—"

Faye turned tail and shot back down the stairs. She could hear the three of them following her. The world around her was a blur as she leapt down the last six or seven steps, going into a violent roll at the bottom of the steps. When she banged her shin on the last step, she let out a cry of pain but found her footing quickly and ran outside. The men were only a few paces behind her.

"Hey! Stop!" one man shouted.

A gunshot echoed across the dark city. Faye cried out again, but she was unscathed. She ran away from the large building, heading for smaller buildings nearby. She barely had time to notice that all of these buildings appeared to be made of marble, and that few had sustained much damage at all. All she could think about were the men following her. A thousand terrible thoughts raced through her mind, all fueled by the unrelenting horror of what they would do when they caught her.

She darted down a dark alley and soon slipped into the silence of a small building. Her heart pounding in her ears, Faye immediately started to search for another door, a window, anything that could possibly lead her to another hiding place. She'd run from people who wanted something from her before. She was actually pretty good at it. Hell, she'd had plenty of experience.

After a quick investigation, she found a small window barely large enough to squeeze through. Considering her options, Faye tried the radio again.

Nothing.

She was on her own.

She drew a deep breath and started to shimmy out the window. Cringing, Faye realized just how tight of a fit it was going to be. She would fit, but only because she had been suffered from a lack of food back at the _Bebop_. With a groan, she paused, shaking her head.

"What a crock."

She heard a rush of air at her side. For a brief instant, Faye caught sight of something long and narrow coming at her face. The scantily-clad bounty hunter could only shout out in surprise. Her yell cracked into a quiet cry of surprise. Whatever it was struck her face in that same instant, and Faye's world went black.

* * *

"An intruder," Ariel replied as she guided Quinn down into the depths of his private coliseum, to the dungeon where the ruler of this land before man had come had once trained his version of gladiators. The two of them were flanked by Ariel's personal guards, who followed her everywhere she went, if she asked them to.

"Did she send word of our little operation?"

"She had this, but it is broken." Quinn took the devise, inspecting it with a grim frown. "I believe it to be a radio transmitter of some sort."

The old man nodded. "Yes. Good. You're sure she didn't send a message?"

"It's been broken for some time," Ariel replied. "Your plans are quite safe."

Quinn nodded. He agreed with her. And even if the bitch had reached someone on the outside, they would never have time to decipher whatever information they had received and deliver significant warning of the mysterious, genetically enhanced army. No one would be able to figure out what blueprint Quinn had used to construct his masterpiece. He still held the people of Gunsmoke firmly in his iron grip.

"And what does she know?"

"She suspects something, but I am unclear as to what she truly knows. It is difficult to say, really." Ariel glanced to him. "I suspect I can get more information from her if I can have a few quiet moments with her."

Quinn smirked. "Ah yes. I suspected as much."

She shot him a sidelong glance. "Whatever she might know, I believe she is confused. All this is new information to her."

"Such as?"

"I don't believe she knows much about Vash the Stampede."

Quinn paused. "No one knows the whole truth. Not even me."

"No, I mean I don't believe she knew much of anything more than a week ago, and that includes the name. She's a bounty hunter and cocky as hell. That's about as much as I can determine about her."

"Odd. A bounty hunter who doesn't know who Vash the Stampede is."

"That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you."

Quinn scratched his chin, pausing in the dark corridor. "Hmmm. That is very intriguing."

"Glad you think so, sir."

"What does she look like?"

"A slut," Ariel replied without hesitation. He gave her a look. "The girl dresses like a prostitute."

Quinn smirked. "Such poetic whim."

"I speak the truth sir. No more or less."

"Fair enough."

The two came at last to the iron door that separated the coliseum from the dungeon vault. Two guards, identical to the two that followed Ariel everywhere she went, nodded at the silent stare she gave them and quickly opened the door. Quinn entered followed directly by Ariel. Just beyond the door were two different sets of stairs, separated by another door. The stairs, one leading down and the other up, led to the cells. Beyond the middle door was the interrogation chamber, and this was where Quinn had asked to meet all his prisoners.

He took a torch from the wall as he entered the dark room, holding the flame up to peer to the girl that hung by her wrists from the ceiling at the center of the room. She had been given only enough slack that her shackled feet touched the ground. He brought the flame close to her face.

One look brought a sudden grimace to the old man's features. She was beautiful, a trim, athletic woman with full breasts and a perfect, hourglass figure, and her scant, yellow outfit left little to the imagination. He fought to keep his personal desire in check. He wasn't supposed to be a horny old man anymore. "So?"

The girl glared back at him. "So what!"

"Explain yourself."

"Explain _myself!_ Just who the hell are you?" she demanded. "Untie me, damnit! Is this your idea of courtesy around here!"

Quinn glared at her for a moment. "I don't recall sending an invitation."

"I'm a call girl, you idiot! My boss sent me here to give a someone a good screw. Hanging me here by the wrists really doesn't put me in a very good position to give a blowjob, let alone anything else."

"A whore, eh? I see." He gave her a look. He turned from her to the table where her equipment was strewn about. "I never saw a whore with such interesting assortment of accessories." Slowly he lifted her sidearm. "Tell me why you are armed."

"It's a dangerous world out there, old man. A girl's gotta have more than looks to get by in this day and age."

"True enough. But what about this?" He slowly held up her infrared goggles.

The woman didn't skip a beat. "What can I say? I'm in the business to satisfy. I've seen a lot of kinky fetishes in my day."

Quinn smirked. "You are a liar, my dear young lady. A very quirky, interesting liar, with a great body, but still just a liar."

"Yeah, I guess it was worth a shot."

"Oh yes, most definitely." He tapped the gun to his palm, gazing at her. "I'm not an easy man to please. Not even my friends are safe. I had a bounty hunter executed for failure only five days ago."

She swallowed. "What's that got to do with me?"

"I execute my friends, woman. Does that not bring you discomfort?"

"This is pretty uncomfortable as is."

"Tell me your name."

The woman smirked. "Lucy the Liar."

A hand snatched her hair and tore her head back; she cried out in surprise. Ariel's pink lips brushed against the young woman's ear as she hissed angrily at her. "Insolence will lead you nowhere save the grave, foolish little child."

"Ariel speaks true," Quinn said. "I am a very busy man whose patience is already stretched beyond its limits. I would just as soon have your throat slit than waste precious time sifting through your bullshit."

"That's not very nice. All I have is my bullshit."

Quinn was silent for a moment.

"You should let me kill her. She is nothing but a nuisance."

He look from Ariel to the strange woman, and shook his head. "No. Not yet."

"Sir…"

He held up a hand. "There are seven Gung-Ho Guns in this compound, none of whom have experience more than a moment of pleasure since they arrived here ten months ago." He gave the young woman a sly grin. "I believe I shall offer the nameless call girl a night of peace before I send you south."

The girl glared at him. "You wouldn't."

With a smirk, Quinn approached his young prisoner, drew his hand gently along the girl's thigh, tracing slowly to the crotch of her yellow shorts. He looked up to her and then squeezed her tender flesh in his fingers, giving it a violent twist. The girl screamed in agony, and the old man fixed her with a hateful glare. "Yes, I would."

Ariel watched in silence as the prisoner tried to twist away from his cruel touch.

"You don't have to ask," Quinn said gently as he released her. "I'm pretty sure my men would be less forgiving then I."

With that, he turned and stalked from the room. Ariel smirked, her hands behind her back. The girl hung there, suddenly defeated.

"That is the price of defiance," she said after a time.

Eyes filled with the tears of pain lifted to meet her gaze.

"I'm a defiant woman," she said, her throat dry and her voice filled with agony. "To the bitter end."

Ariel had to smile. "One tough cookie," she commented. "Admirable, at least. If not foolish."

Then, she too, was gone.

Alone, at last, the young prisoner began to sob quietly to herself, both at the terror of her disposition and the throbbing pain between her legs.


	41. Chapter Thirty Six

THIRTY-SIX: road trip

"So where the hell am I going?"

"Faye should've been back by now," Jet said as he slammed the trunk of the land-rover. "She only had a few hours worth of fuel on the _Redtail_, so it stands to reason that she ran out and got stranded somewhere to the north."

Spike glared at his partner. "Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds? She could be anywhere out there. The land-rover isn't exactly built for distance."

Jet sighed. Spike was right, of course. The damn thing had only gone a little over nine miles the last time, and it had been a struggle to get it back to the _Bebop_ for repairs. The real problem was that there was no other option at the moment. Faye was gone and they didn't have a clue how far she had actually gone. They only had her location from the last time that Ed had tried to contact her.

He didn't argue with the younger cowboy. He still had a lot of work to do, and it was a necessity to get Spike out north to look for Faye. If nothing else, the _Redtail_ was an essential piece of equipment toward establishing a base of operations if they were going to be stuck on this rock for as long as he figured they would be. Faye didn't seem to realize that things weren't going well as far as repairs to the _Bebop_. It was foolish to go taking off whenever she felt like it, and he was going to make that damn clear. If they could find her, wherever she might be.

"We have to find her, Spiko. I've done a lot of work on this old thing. It should increase your gas mileage and maneuverability."

"This is a real bad idea."

Jet sighed. "You already said that."

"It's getting worse by the second."

"And I couldn't be any more sorry. It's gotta be done, Spike."

"I'm not arguing that," Spike said. "It's just not gonna work."

The two men fell silent as they stood to one side of the land-rover, Jet trying to figure out the best way to convince Spike to head out, and Spike simply shutting each option away with simple yet resounding denial. Faye was out there somewhere, and the old man thought she might be in danger. Sure, it would be her own fault, but he didn't really want the _Redtail _to fall into the hands of just any scum that might be wandering the desert. Without a damn good reason that would suit Spike Spiegel, she'd be sitting out there alone for a long time.

Neither really cared all that much for the young woman. They were used to her presence, though that would never extend as far as friendship. Faye was more of a nuisance, a pest. Ed almost pulled her weight around the ship…almost…but Faye pretty much sat around and ate the food and spent the money without truly earning her place among them. Sure, she helped with the hunting down bounties, but getting her to split reward money was like pulling teeth.

Jet scowled. "Christ, your as bad as Faye. We need that ship."

"You get it."

"Spike!"

The younger cowboy pulled out a cigarette. "You know what, Jet…you're impossible."

"Me! Damnit, Spike!"

"Yeah, you. Look around you. We can't even help ourselves. Why should either of us go sticking out neck out for a girl who refuses to help us. There're too many unknowns. I'm not going out there."

"Spike, we can't just leave her sitting out there."

"We can and we will." He lit the cigarette and gave his friend a look. "She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

"Damnit Spike, I want her back here!"

"Sorry. Nothin' I can do for ya." Spike started to turn away.

Jet grabbed his arm. "Hey."

"Hey what?"

"I can't fix the _Bebop_."

"Can't, or won't? Is this some kind of blackmail?"

"The damage is too extensive. This isn't a one man job. Plus, we don't have the equipment. We won't be getting off this rock."

Spike sighed. "We've been in tight spots before."

"Yeah, and you're about to get in a tighter one."

"Whaddaya mean by that?"

"Spike, you're going out there."

"Jet—"

"No, hear me out." Spike complied, giving him the dirtiest look he'd seen in some time. "I can't fix the _Bebop_ and our emergency power supply is on its last limbs. We can't stay here much longer."

"That's why you're in such a hurry to get this thing running."

"That's right. I wasn't just sending you. I'm coming with you."

Spike had to smirk. "This has got to be my version of hell."

"Not quite. Faye's not here."

"Yeah, I guess."

"The supplies are packed. Now we just need to find—"

Before he could finish, the two of them were drowned in a thunderous roar of giggles and laughter as the wiry girl burst into the room, her laptop balanced on her head and arms outstretched, weaving and dodging through an imaginary obstacle course.

"_Weeeee! Road trip!_"

Ein followed right behind her.

"You were saying?" grumbled an annoyed Spike.

Jet shrugged. "I was wrong. This is hell."

* * *

Dawn spilled across the land soon after the team from the _Bebop_ started the journey to the north. It was oddly quiet between the four of them despite the roar of the land-rover's engine as it kicked up trails of sand in their wake. Somehow, Spike was able to sleep over the terrible noise. Ed bounced about in the backseat, chittering away like an excited hamster. Ein was in the back, crammed as tight as he would go against the floorboard. Jet figured the little dog was scared shitless by the peculiarities of their trip across the desert.

It'd be better if they could find some kind of radio station, but Jet knew that would be a fruitless endeavor. He wondered if the people here had any decent communication technology that didn't involve some kind of domesticated animal hauling a messenger back and forth over the barren landscape. Anything would be better than nothing. They'd simply crashed too far from civilization to learn enough about the people of this planet.

He was bothered by what he had discovered aboard his ship. While the emergency power had supplied him with sufficient energy to run the basics onboard his ship, it would never be enough to get the blasted ship off the ground. Worse yet, he knew why the ship had gone down in the first place.

Logs showed that the _Bebop_, while traveling through hyperspace, had been blasted by a form of radiation unlike any he had ever seen. What he did know was that somehow that radiation ate through the ship's primary power cells, and eventually drained her of all power. He knew that either before or after the ship was being blasted by radiation, it had been sucked into a wormhole and thrown possibly across space and time. How far, he wasn't certain, but it was inevitably true. He believed that the _Bebop_ hadn't decsended on the planet through its atmosphere because of the hull. Where typically the hull might be terribly scorched upon reentry, the _Bebop_ had suffered no such damage.

That meant one of two things. Either the _Bebop _had exited with wormhole through already within the atmosphere, or she had been placed out here after the damage. He didn't see how the latter could be true.

"Where are we going, Jet-person?"

A peek over his shoulder revealed the girl leaning in close, watching the speedometer with interest. "North. We're looking for Faye."

"Hey, what's that?"

"Huh?" He followed the girl's arm as she pointed out to the northwest. He frowned as he saw what appeared to be a silver dome glinting in the early morning sunlight. After a moment, he replied back to her over his shoulder: "Some kind of building. I didn't think there were any people out this far."

"Nope. Don't think so." Edward fiddled with her goggles for a moment and snapped them on over her eyes. She grinned like an idiot. "We should check it out!"

"We're looking for Faye. This isn't all that far from where that old ship crashed. You would've been able to pick up some kind of signal."

"Maybe the bounty-person is there," the girl suggested.

"Huh? In there?" Jet peered up, again, considering the girl's suggestion. "You really think so?"

"They disappeared right after they left the seeds ship, right?" she asked. Jet nodded. "Stands to reason they went somewhere. If we can't find them, that's a place for to look-see."

The old man stopped the rover. He gave her a look. Edward had trustworthy intelligence, unlike a his other two partners. If she thought something was amiss, she was usually right. This was nothing more than an assumption, however, if a logical one. They were looking for Faye, and she had the ship connected wirelessly to Tomato. Vash the Stampede and his cronies didn't.

Jet Black was left with a tough decision. Faye had to be out there somewhere, but he was highly interested in whatever lay in the building Ed had discovered. They could always come back and check it out later. Then again, they could always check it out and continue on their way. They didn't have the first clue as to where Faye was—for all they knew, she was simply hiding out while there was work to be done on the _Bebop_. The whole scenario called for unwanted work, but at least the building on the horizon would prove interesting.

"I say we take our chances over there." He saw Spike make a gesture toward the building. The younger bounty hunter was pulling out a pack of smokes.

"You'd better take it easy on those things. Something tells me they don't make your brand out here."

Spike smirked. "Prob'ly not."

Jet put the land-rover into third gear and started northwest, toward the strange, domed building on the horizon.

* * *

Henry Starks eyed his two prisoners, grateful for the iron casket that held the Alpha Sample like a titanium vise. The sample was awake, glaring darkly back at Starks, but he felt safe despite the hate in the man's eyes. Even separated by three feet of steel, the man could be intimidating. The big girl next to him was tied to a chair, and no real threat to escape. Doc Gorsett stood off to the side, admiring the silver magnum they had confiscated from the plant-spawn.

The room was void of all other distractions. The prisoners were his own, for the moment. Morgante was back in the City of Yesterday, fittingly named for the past civilization that had ruled this world, no doubt helping Ariel to prepare the largest army this godforsaken world had ever seen. Starks wasn't so sure he was eager for this war to take place, but Quinn wanted to see it done, and he trusted Quinn.

It had taken less than ten hours to transfer the prisoners to the Millennium Arc, the same strange vessel where Vash the Stampede had imprisoned his own brother. Now, it was controlled by the Gung-Ho Guns, the same vicious gang of criminals that had joined Knives in his pursuit of the Humanoid Typhoon for nearly a quarter of a century.

Taking his eyes from his prisoners, Starks shuffled his tattered deck of cards and lay them out to play solitaire. Soon he was enthralled in his game, the two captives were forgotten.

Gorsett sauntered over, the magnum set firmly in his grip. "It's true," the young Gung-Ho Gun said quietly. "Just like they say. This isn't just a revolver. It's a weapon of mass destruction."

Starks grunted and lay out three new cards from the deck.

"I mean it, man. Look at this." He took a pin from the top of the gun and pulled it loose. Two metal plates along the barrel fell away to reveal a crystal glowing within. Starks gave the weapon a quick glance and went back to his game. "Come on, man. This is fucking trilithium. How that bastard got a hold of trilithium is beyond me."

"The plants feed off trilithium," Starks answered. "And be careful with that. If you're not careful you'll turn this whole complex into a smoldering crater."

"Hey, I am careful. I know exactly what I'm doing." He collected the two plates and refitted them onto the gun, replacing the pin. He set the big gun on the table next to Stark's game. "They hired me for this kind of shit, remember?"

Starks nodded. "Course I remember."

Moments later, a door slipped open, and two samples entered. From behind, Starks heard the two prisoners stir, no doubt to see who had come into the room. No doubt they were in for quite a surprise. He grinned but didn't pay the two any attention. Instead, he rose and looked to the samples.

"You have a good reason to disturb us, I trust."

The lead sample nodded and spoke in the exact identical voice that all the samples spoke in, a voice he knew mirrored that of the original, Vash the Stampede. "We have company, Mr. Starks."

"And?"

"It's the off-worlders."

* * *

Spike rose from the land-rover and pulled his sidearm. He peered about the strange gorge, with what appeared to be a massive metal starship poking out through the desert floor and ascending several stories high. It was massive, with a smooth surface that made it impossible to climb. It meant they would have to circle the thing until they found an entrance.

"Woah…" Edward giggled and leapt out of the backseat with Ein in her arms and Tomato balanced squarely on her head.

"Ever seen anything like it?" Jet asked.

"Not in a place like this," Spike replied. "Come on. Let's have a look around."

The four of them started around the giant structure, searching for an entrance. Spike watched with the massive structure with an intensity that he rarely displayed. Truth was, he was excited. This was something that he knew without a doubt was far too complex for the people of this world to know, so he had determined even without Ed's analysis he was looking at something that would only help them get off this rock.

"Hey Ed, why didn't you pick up a place like this on your scanners before?"

"This isn't a seed ship, Jet-person. There are no seeds here, so no signals bounce up to the satellite."

Spike looked to her. "So what're you saying? How long has this thing been here?"

Ed looked to him and shrugged.

The bounty hunter nodded.

"So," Jet said. "What next?"

Before anyone could answer, the roar of four engines ripped the still air and four dirt-bikes tore into view, two from either side of the massive structure. Desert sand filled the air with a dark haze, making it difficult to see. The three of them turned on their heels, eyeing the oncoming bikes with concern. Of the riders, all were men, and all of them held rapid-fire assault rifles.

They circled the team, coming to a halt around the four. They didn't aim, but their presense was menacing enough.

Ed clung to Ein, forcing herself between and behind the two men.

Spike had to smirk. "Would you look at that," he said. "A welcoming committee."

"Just watch your back," Jet replied.

They waited for the bullets to fly.


	42. Chapter Thirty Seven

THIRTY-SEVEN: pretty lady

Faye was lonely. She felt as though someone had taken a cane to her and smacked her senseless. Aches and pains riddled her tender body, especially where the strange old man had so brutally squeezed her hours ago. All she knew was that every inch of her body ached, and there was no one to offer her mercy, or at least company.

She would've given anything to have one of her friends here. Even one of the bad guys would've been great at this point. She needed someone to spit at. She had spent most of the night counting noises. The place was oddly quiet, but when a noise was made it reverberated through the wall as though an earthquake had shaken the land.

They had left her alone, without a single person to keep an eye on her. That bothered her. If they were so callous about holding her, it could only mean that they felt any attempt she made to escape would be futile.

Not that escape was even a viable option. She couldn't move an inch other than her head, as the rest of her young body was stretched to its limit. She couldn't even feel her fingers to wiggle them. Faye wanted nothing more than to fight back, but she feared that in this case, fighting back was not really an option.

What would Spike would do in this situation? She turned the question briefly in her thoughts and realized that she hadn't the slightest clue. He was good, but she didn't really know how good he was. Hard to say. What she did know was simply this: Spike would never have let himself get captured.

Damn that Spike. He was such a pain in the ass.

Jet and Ed were too, and the damn dog, but Spike was the worst of them. He was so casual, so goddamned pig-headed, so arrogant. No one quite did it like Spike.

She had tried to count the hours, but it was difficult because she might have dozed off a time or two while she hung from the ceiling. She was terribly exhausted, but she really didn't like the idea of sleeping in this godforsaken place. Who knew what was lurking just beyond that huge metal door? While she knew it was her only exit, it was very possible that there were a dozen identical soldiers standing guard there.

For a moment, Faye actually wished she'd stayed home, but she refused the very idea that Jet would've been be right. He would've gotten on her case for leaving the _Bebop_ without a word. At least this way, if she ever saw him again, she could just tell him to fuck off and that would be that.

The terrible grinding noise of metal against metal drew her attention to the door. In the bright glow of the light she saw a large silhouette. A man began to approach, a huge, muscle-bound freak of nature with a patch over his left eye. Faye instantly grimaced as the man trudged over toward her. He stood at least seven feet tall, barrel-chested with biceps twice as wide as her own body.

He leaned forward grinning, and Faye felt as though she would be horribly sick. The monster's breath reeked of rotten meat and his jagged teeth were stained brown with tobacco. A big cigar hung from the corner of his mouth, and the embers glowed as he sucked in the intoxicating fumes. His face was bulgy and rounded, with a glossy dome where hair had either been lost, or had never grown.

She let her eyes trail to the mammoth weapons at his hips. Two cannons that she thought were probably large, sawed-off shotguns rested at either hip. Over his right shoulder was the handle of a large club. Everything about the man was huge, especially that horrendous body odor. She didn't say anything, though she did stare back at the tank of a man with the same ferocity as he stared at her. Faye Valentine didn't back down, especially to oversized, disgusting ogres.

The monstrosity of a man reached and grabbed one plump breast, giving it a squeeze. Faye sneered. "Hey! Hands off the merchandise, ugly!"

"Pretty," was all he said as his rough fingers glided over the top of her outfit and trailed lower to the warm flesh of her stomach. His fingers came away with a thin layer of sweat. He tasted it, turning his eyes toward her. "Tasty."

Faye groaned, rolling her eyes. "Mind if I call you Mr. Nasty?"

"Quiet, pretty lady."

Faye gave him a look. "What they took in looks they really didn't give you in terms of brains, did they?"

"Bran said quiet!" He reached out and struck her lightly across the face with the back of his hand. Faye suppressed a cry, more of surprise than pain, and looked away. The big man's hands instantly went to her top once more. She felt the pressure against her bust, and then heard the tear of fabric as he ripped it away, letting her bosom spill free. 'Bran' started to giggle with glee. "Nice titties, pretty lady!" He started fondling her. Faye clenched her eyes tight, unable to twist away from him, unable to cover herself.

_At least he's gentle,_ she thought, though she knew her face was bright red.

"Pretty lady is real nice," Mr. Nasty announced.

"Glad you think so. Now could you take your hands off?"

'Mr. Nasty' removed his hand. "Nice titties," he said again. Faye rolled her eyes. For most men, the compliment would have come across trite and perverted, but for this overgrown ogre, it was almost as if it were the nicest thing anyone could have said. He spoke with the genuine sincerity of a child. "Pretty lady like Bran?" he asked hopefully.

"You're cute," she replied, trying not to grimace. "You know, that bulldog ass-face sorta cute."

Apparently he thought that was hilarious, because the big lug threw his head back and burst out in thunderous laughter. "Pretty lady funny, too!" He actually reached out and gave her what was meant to be a playful shove, but she was tied so tightly that there was no give. He only ended up putting strain on her wrists and ankles. Faye had to fight to hold back the tears.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I'm a real hoot."

Bran giggled and proceeded to poke and prod at her chest. He stopped talking, except for an occasional muttering of nonsense. Several minutes of embarrasment slid past like hours, before the two of them were blissfully interrupted by a deep, angry voice.

"Bran! Just what are you doing in here?"

The big man froze. "Mr. Kelso! Bran want to see pretty lady."

"Yeah? Well ya saw her." The little man with the handlebar mustache gave Faye a curious look. "More of her than the rest of us, it looks."

"At least he had the decency to come in while I was awake," Faye muttered.

"Ah, the bitch talks," Kelso replied. He approached her, peering at her from beneath the rim of his cowboy hat.

"Yeah, the bitch talks," she hissed.

"Wow. This bitch has spunk." He stood there, letting his eyes trail the length of her body. They paused at her chest briefly before falling down to the swell of her hips. "Among other interesting assets."

Bran nodded eagerly. "Pretty lady has nice titties."

"Ah, but the nectar comes from within," Kelso said, grinning.

"Within?"

"You bet your ass."

The big man giggled. "Show Bran."

"Easy." Kelso reached out and grabbed for Faye's fly.

"Hey!"

"Quiet!" The man gave her an angry glare. "You're just eyecandy, bitch. Keep wagging your tongue and I'll fucking cut it out."

Faye swallowed.

With the zipper undone, her tight, yellow shorts slid easily from her hips.

"Oh, sweet nectar," Kelso whispered. "Real sweet."

He fingered her, rubbing her.

"Real nice."

Faye trembled at his touch. "You sick bastard."

"Shuddup," he said.

Bran watched with keen interest. "Sweet nectar?" he asked, pointing. Faye groaned and rolled her eyes.

Kelso grinned. "Oh yeah. Real sweet." He leaned forward and licked her.

"You twisted little fucker!" Faye snapped.

"I said shuddup!" Kelso sneered. He brought his fist around.

Faye felt the air rush from her lungs violently, and would have doubled over if she wasn't hanging from the ceiling.

"Stupid whore!"

"No hit pretty lady, Mr. Kelso."

"She's nothin' but a bitch," the smaller man said. "Hit her all you want."

"But she nice pretty lady."

Faye was almost thankful for Bran's presense.

"She's a fucking bitch," Kelso said. "Men like us go after a bitch like this for two things." He gave her bottom a sudden, violent swat. Faye yelped. "This." He grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed so tight it hurt. She cried out, trying unsuccessfuly to twist away from the little bastard. "And this. Nobody gives a shit how nice she is, so long as she spreads her legs."

"Kelso better be nice to pretty lady. She nice to Bran."

"Fuck, you are a dumbass, aren't you."

The big man glared. "Bran no dumbass."

"Don't you know what to do with pretty ladies, man?"

Bran watched him for a moment, confused. He scratched his bald head, struggling to find his words. "Pretty ladies good to look at."

"Hell no. You stick your prick here." Bran took hold of her in the same place the old man had grabbed her. "Then you fuck her brains out."

"Let go of me, damnit!" Faye shouted.

Kelso glared at her. "Fucking bitch." And then he squeezed.

The agony of a thousand daggers peirced Faye. Tears rolled freely down her face as she let her head fall back and began to sob loudly. The pain was so intense that she surrendered her pride and simply bawled her eyes out.

"Good God!" Kelso grunted. "You getting this, Bran?"

"No hurt pretty lady!"

"She's nothing but a gutless, crying bitch!" Kelso shouted. He reared back and slapped her across the face. "Shut the hell up!"

Faye couldn't stop crying. She was broken.

"No hurt her!" Bran roared, and he suddenly reached out, grabbing the smaller man by the throat. Kelso barely had a chance to reach for his guns before Bran put every bit of his four hundred-plus-pound frame into slamming Kelso into the wall. Even through her sobbing, Faye could hear the sickening crack of the man's neck as Bran tossed him about like a ragdoll and then dropped him on the ground. "Bad Kelso!" To add to smaller man's indignities, Bran kicked him. Then he turned his attention to Faye. "Pretty lady okay?"

Her pain had been forgotten. She simply stared at Kelso's unmoving body, and knew without a doubt that the man was dead.

"Holy shit…" she murmured.

In a surprisingly gentle gesture, Bran touched her cheek. "Kelso no hurt you no more. Pretty lady no cry."

"I can see that." She turned her eyes up to the big man. He was smiling, and she could see the sympathy clearly in his dark eyes. She quickly jiggled her wrists, causing the chains to rattle. He looked up. "Hey, can you help me down?"

Bran frowned. "Quinn no like that."

"Quinn?"

"Old boss man Quinn." The big man sighed. "He no like Bran much."

"Well, pretty lady likes Bran." She watched as his eyes lit up. New hope surged through her. "Pretty lady likes Bran a lot."

He giggled again, and nearly jumped as a spastic jolt coursed up his spine.

"Please, Bran. Help the pretty lady?"

He frowned, and shrugged apologetically. "Quinn no like that."

"Well, Quinn hurt pretty lady too."

"Quinn hurt you?"

"He sure did."

"Bran no like that," he announced decidedly.

"No. Neither does the pretty lady."

The big man drew a slow breath. "How can Bran help? Bran stupid."

Faye frowned. "No. Bran is just misunderstood."

"Misunderstood? Pretty lady really think so?"

"Pretty lady knows so."

He offered her a big, ugly grin. "Bran help them understand." He reached up and grabbed the chains that held her wrists and tore them easily from the marble ceiling. Then he bent to the floor and ripped them from her feet. "Pretty lady okay?"

"Pretty lady very naked," Faye replied, and bent over to pull her shorts back up over her bottom. She gently rubbed the tender spot through the fabric, shuddering at the torturous ache. _Fucking bastards,_ she thought, and went over to the table where her gun and infrared goggles waited. She checked the weapon to find it was still loaded, and that brought a grin to her face. They'd been pretty cocky, but for good reason. How could _they_ have predicted she would join forces with the ugly one? She drew a deep breath and lifted her gun. "Can we get out of here now?" she asked.

"Bran want Uri first."

Faye frowned. "Say again?"

"Uri. Bran want Uri."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uri likes Bran."

"Uri, huh? Well then, where's this Uri hiding?"

"Uri no hide. Bran pin Uri outside. Quinn no like Uri."

_Pinned up, eh?_ That sounded interesting, to say the least.

Faye grabbed for her yellow top. It was torn, but she managed to adjust it to cover her properly before she and her newfound friend were ready to depart. Slipping her gun into place in the holster on her shorts, she finally smiled. "Okay, let's go get Uri."

The guys were never going to believe this one.


	43. Chapter Thirty Eight

THIRTY-EIGHT: Millennium arc

Spike was at his finest, a graceful architect of combat, slipping through the fight with lucid fervor. Once his might and cunning skill had been fueled by rage. Now he was as cool and calculating as his former partner in the Red Dragon syndicate, who had trained him to be what he had become, a man who was now his enemy.

He wove in and out of range, dishing out blow after blow while taking none himself. He was a swarm of unstoppable offense that the four attackers had not been prepared to face. Jet, Ed, and Ein simply didn't need to be there. Regardless, and despite the powerful arsenal they brought with them, the four men were simply no match.

He dispatched them one by one, and very soon after the fight had begun, it was over, ending with Spike standing over four men as Jet, Ed, and Ein simply watching on. It was an exhibition of dominating skill, and Spike didn't even break a sweat.

Almost immediately after the final man hit the sand, three new figures appeared around the corner. These men approached unarmed, but they walked around as though they owned the place. Spike drew his sidearm even before their arrival, letting the three of them know that he had not yet dropped his guard.

The men stopped ten or so paces away and the tall one in the middle held up his hands. "Hey. Nice piece of work there, stranger," he said. "Not a helluva lot of men can fight like that."

Spike gave one of the fallen men a nudge with the toe of his show. "Not these guys, that's for sure."

The man smirked. "Not these guys," he agreed.

"You want a demonstration?"

He held up his arms in surrender. "Oh, no. That would be a horrible idea." He gestured to the men. "I apologize for all this. We take security of this facility very seriously, as you can see. With dangerous criminals like Vash the Stampede wandering about the desert, we have to be extremely cautious toward all uninvited guests."

"Men with shotguns on motorcycles?" Jet asked. "That seems a bit excessive."

The man almost laughed before he gestured to his fallen men; a couple of them had finally started to come to after their collective beatings. "You tell me."

Jet scratched his head. "Guess not."

"Tell me, strangers, what brings you to these distant parts?"

"We're bounty hunters," Jet said. "Name's Jet Black, and that's Spike Spiegel. The girl there goes by the name Radical Edward."

Spike shot him a look, but he knew that these people wouldn't know those names anyway, so he didn't say anything.

The man's brow rose slightly. "Bounty hunters? Well, it's been a long time since I've seen good bounty hunters. I'm Henry Starks, and these are my associates, Merrick Quicksilver and Kane the Nighthawk." Both men bowed their heads as they were introduced, more in acknowledgment than greeting. Spike took a moment to memorize every detail of their dress and facial features.

Then, he too nodded his acknowledgement of their presense.

"If you don't mind me askin', what is it you people do here?"

Starks smiled at Jet's question. "Research, mostly. This is the single most important archaeological find throughout the whole of Gunsmoke. This very structure is evidence that a whole other race existed here before the coming of mankind."

They followed Starks down a brightly-lit corridor of the massive structure, with Merrick and Kane taking up the rear. The structure was massive, made of a metal the likes of which Jet had never seen. He was drawn to the intricate designs engraved into a single black stripe in the wall three feet above the floor that ran the length of the corridor. While he didn't quite understand what the markings meant, he was near certain that it was some form of alien writing. This odd building had not been built by human hands.

"And what do you know about it?"

"Not a lot. You see, we've only just acquired rights to this place. The men who discovered it wore out their welcome ages ago."

"But it's a ship, right?" Edward asked, sporadically dancing about behind the man, exploring every nook and cranny of the huge hallway. Jet had almost forgotten the kid was there, because she hadn't made a single noise in some time, a rarity for the girl, especially in times of learning new things.

"Huh? Oh, we think so. But there's no direct evidence to suggest it. Much of whatever it was is buried in sand these days."

"How long has it been here?" Jet asked.

"Hard to say."

"Two thousand years!" Edward announced, flopping down on her backside and dropping Tomato gently onto the floor in front of her.

Jet's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Ed, how do you know that?" Spike demanded.

"She doesn't!" Jet replied. "She couldn't."

"Do so!" Edward snapped back. "She's called the Millennium Arc because the Keepers lost her two thousand years ago!"

The two men who had lived with her for the better part of a year simply stared at the girl. Their audience of three waited to see where the converstation was headed. For a long, silent moment, Edward fiddled with Tomato, as if she had completely forgotten her little rift with her friends.

Jet slapped his forehead. "For Christ's sake, Ed! Make sense once in awhile. _Please._ It'd really be better off on my heart that way."

"Don't be silly, Jet-person!"

Starks chuckled and placed a hand on Edward's shoulder. "I'm afraid your friends are right. I don't know how you can possibly know what this thing is."

Ed turned on him like a rabid beast, hissing at him before she sunk her teeth into his wrist. Starks let out a cry of pain before ripping his arm away from her.

"You little—" He started to rear back to slap her when Spike snatched his wrist, flipping him easily head-over-heels and onto his back. Then he stepped on Sparks' neck, cutting off his airway.

"Now that wasn't very nice," Spike said with a smirk.

"Hey, get off—"

The other two started forward, but froze when Jet pulled his sidearm, taking aim. "Hold it right there."

Spike added a little pressure to the heel of his shoe. "Just a second. You rear back to slap my friend and think you're calling the shots? Sorry man, but that's not how it works." With Starks at his mercy, he pulled a pack of smokes from his pocket and lit one, taking his time. "If Ed says this thing is a ship, I believe her. She isn't wrong very often. What do you think, Jet?"

"Sounds good to me," the ex-cop replied.

Spike removed his shoe, letting Starks up. The man sat up quick, gasping for air. "Jesus, man! That was uncalled for."

"Don't raise your hand to me or my friends," Spike warned. "Next time it won't be near so pleasant."

Jet turned to Ed. "How do you know this thing is called the Millennium Arc?"

"Maybe this isn't the time for a philosophical talk with a certified lunatic," Starks said, and rose slowly to his feet. His eyes went to Spike. He was angry, but he kept his tone quiet. "We have a proposition for you, Mr. Spiegel."

Spike glared. "Yeah? What?"

"Vash the Stampede."

"What of it?"

"We want him taken down. He's a risk to everything we're trying to do here."

"So. Why should I care?"

"There's sixty billion double-dollars on that man's head. You can have the whole damn thing, but we want him kept away from this place."

"What's so special about this place?" Jet asked.

"It's a gateship!"

"Whatever Ed," Spike muttered. He stuck a finger in Stark's face a moment later. "Look, we're going after Vash as is, but not for your benefit."

"Fine. That's all well and good, Mr. Spiegel." Starks had a sudden glint in his eyes like a jaguar waiting to pounce. "And I eagerly wish you the best of luck, but with all due respect, Vash the Stampede is a very dangerous man."

"So am I."

"Not so dangerous as a man with sixty billion riding on his broad shoulders."

"I'll take my chances."

"I'm sure you will. But your way might take you a long time. I have two things you don't."

Spike rolled his eyes. "And what could you have that would possibly help me?"

Starks smirked. "First of all, I know where the bastard is hiding." Spike shot Jet a look. "And second, I have a bigger gun."


	44. Chapter Thirty Nine

THIRTY-NINE: new day

Vash had to smile. Standing atop Mercia's old house, he gazed about the quiet paradise he and his friends had discovered. With his hands shoved into his pockets, he closed his eyes and let the soothing breeze cool his face, thinking about how right he felt in a world that felt as though it should belong to the angels.

He could barely remember coming here. He only knew that it had been a long and tedious process over a patch of land that was hardly suitable for travel. He remembered the first few moments when he and his friends had stepped over the dune and met the village of New Hope with their eyes for the first time. Beyond that, he remembered nothing more than the void deep sleep.

Of course, it felt far too sinister for angels. On occasion, anway.

After a time, Vash took a few steps and dropped from the rooftop, landing with ease on his feet. He started off around the house to the front porch. Down the dirt path, he noticed Taku, a boy he had met during his walk with Meryl the day before. He waited at doorstep to greet his young friend.

"Hey kiddo! You're up early!"

"Yeah, Mr. Vash. I was walking to the mill for Mom."

Vash grinned. "You must really be a big help around the house. I'm sure your mother really appreciates that."

"Yeah, I guess so. I'd rather be playing with my friends."

"I know what you mean, but sometimes we have to work before we can play."

Taku shrugged. "I guess so, Mr. Vash."

Vash mussed the boy's hair. "I know so."

Their brief conversation ended and the boy started back up the dirt road toward the mill across the village. Vash ran his fingers through his hair and drew a slow breath. There was so much going on in this village that he would never have anticipated. Mostly, life continued on, no matter what concerns came to the people here. Every person had a chore in this land. Every person had a place. What that person did to keep a place intact depended on the person's skills.

Mercia, for example, was a healer and a fine cook. Taku's father was a farmer who tended to New Hope's crops. His mother was a schoolteacher. Everyone had a place, even the children. A week ago, Vash would have done anything to reserve such a spot with such fine people.

But first, there were more pressing matters for Vash than personal desires.

_In everything you do in life, we must do the things we have to do before we can do the things that we want to do._ The realization struck like a lightning bolt, reminding him of the mission at hand. While he was still a little stiff from lounging about, there were important things to do that simply could not wait. Besides, the pain from his injuries had evaporated. He could go on.

Still deep in thought, Vash slipped into the house and headed upstairs. A minute later he slipped into the room he and Meryl had made their own. Not surprisingly, the girl wasn't in bed. He didn't see her right away, but when he did, he understood. She stood in her nightgown, having thrown the curtains open to let the morning sun spill its warmth onto her. The silk gown let the light pass through, revealing a perfect silhouette of the small woman's frame. Vash smiled.

His smile faded the moment he saw Meryl's expression.

"It's the twenty-seventh of July," she said quietly, staring into the sunlight.

Vash nodded. "Four years ago today," he said quietly, watching her.

"You were such an idiot back then. At least, that's what I thought."

The gunman grinned and approached her, wrapping his arms gently around her. He felt her melt into his embrace, and for a time the two simply stood there, gazing to one another's reflection in the glass. After a time, Meryl's somber mood finally discipated enough to allow a smile.

"You sleep well?" Vash asked.

Her cheek lay against the bicep of his flesh and blood right arm. "Like a baby." She stood there, taking in the quiet of the moment in his arms. "It's time to go, isn't it?"

Vash slowly nodded. "Yeah, I think it probably is. My injuries are healed." He approached her, joining her at the window. He quietly peered out to the vast green land before him. "There's no pain anymore." He'd never been in a such a world so expansive and perfect. He didn't think anything could be so perfect. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he peered to the new day. The world seemed so…new. A hope swelled within him, harmony so elegant and warm new life stirred within him. A life guided by the girl at his side. His bride by word of mouth, by accordance to God, by bondage of the heart and soul, and screw what anyone else thought. "I don't know exactly where we have to go, but he's out there somewhere. Who knows how many people he's hurt while we've been out of the loop." He turned his head slightly to gaze at her eyes, trying to guage her reaction. "I think it's time we talked to Ivan about that little key of yours."

Meryl blinked. "Do you think he'd know anything about it?"

"If your father was here, there's a good possibility that key opens something here. At the very least, we're at a starting point." Vash glanced to the rifle he had rummaged up for her several days ago, telling her with his eyes, his posture, that it had been Ivan who had given it to him. "Ivan knows more about this whole scenario then he lets on. He has connections to the outside that the other residents know nothing about. I don't know what he knows, but he knows something."

Meryl considered him for a moment. "If you say so."

The plant-spawn turned his gaze back to the window, his eyes trailing to the only building in the whole of this wondrous paradise that seemed out of place. Ivan's mansion of polished stone. For a time he was silent, considering the troubling thoughts that had come to him over the past few days, thoughts that he hadn't even entrusted to Meryl. He knew she probably suspected his silent dwellings, but she didn't press him. He was grateful for that. He would tell her all of his realizations when the time was right.

There were few things in this place that didn't bug the hell out of him. How this world had remained so perfect, how he had never known it in all his time wandering the desert, how it had remained concealed from the Project SEEDS team as they took orbit over the planet 131 years ago. It was just maddening that such a mystery continued to reign supreme over his thoughts.

A few silent moments between the couple was enough to help him gather his thoughts, and he turned back to her. He smiled and rewarded her with a kiss. "We need to do something," he said suddenly, almost playfully. "We've been brooding around too long. I think we should take a trip."

Her eyes rose and she stared at him as though he had spoken the unbelievable. "A trip? Vash, are you crazy? With Stryker off with Milly, pretending to be you, we're safe here…aren't we? But if we leave, someone might find out. It would be dangerous Vash. They are still out there looking for you, somewhere."

Vash grinned as she babbled on.

"Someone might be smart enough to figure out that Stryker isn't you, or need I remind you there is one characteristic you don't share?" She shook her head and wrapped her arms around him gently, leaning up to kiss his chin before she pushed herself away and brushed her hair out of her face with a free hand. "In any case, you're right about one thing. We need to go speak with Ivan about this key."

He teased her with a gentle a poke in the ribs. "Not that kind of trip. I was speaking metaphorically." He turned his gaze to the world through their window, lost briefly in the wondrous glow of morning's light. "Besides, I don't know how Stryker could really pull off Vash the Stampede. Cloned or not, Vash the Stampede is one in sixty billion." He winked and gave her a huge, arrogant grin.

The grin faded as a memory crossed his mind, a memory of long ago, long before he had ever met the insurance girls, long before he had ever lost his arm at the city of July, long before he had ever become the most feared outlaw this godforsaken land had ever seen. Hell, it was even prior to that day he had discovered the Millennium Arc, the strange alien vessel where he had imprisoned his brother. Vash closed his eyes and shook the memory away. He hadn't thought of her in sixty years. Why now?

Meryl gazed back at him with concern on her face. "Vash, what's wrong?"

"Someone I used to know," he replied gently. His smile soon returned as his eyes met hers. "Go get dressed. We can get some breakfast and then we'll go find Ivan."

Frowning, the former insurance girl gave him nod, grabbed a fresh set of clothes, and vanished into the bathroom, leaving the Humanoid Typhoon to gaze to the new day alone. A new day, he realized, that would only lead to new questions, and undoubtedly too few answers.

If Ivan couldn't shed light on some of his concerns, he didn't know what he would do. Quietly, the plant-spawn placed his hands against his hips and leaned back, and then he ran a hand through his golden hair. Morgante was out there somewhere, waiting for Vash the Stampede to make his move. He had made plenty of moves on his own, prior to Vash. He had hurt a lot of people along the way. Vash longed to see the pain reach an end.

So many—Meryl, Milly, and Sean included—had suffered at the hands of Vash's brother. Now Meryl's own father had taken Knives' place, and Vash was certain he was equally as cold-hearted as his fallen brother.

One thought struck him as he stood there, gazing to the emerald and golden world spread out before him. He came to realize that he had never truly known what kind of man Morgante the Warhead, or Richard Stryfe, as he had learned only a few months ago, truly was. Vash knew him as the newest leader of the near-dismantled Gung-Ho Guns, but there was so much about the man he had never come to understand. Who was Richard Stryfe? Was he the family man who had helped, in some ways, to raise the girl Vash had come to love so dearly? Regardless of whether he had been there or not during Meryl's upbringing, Vash figured he owed quite a lot to the old bastard.

Soon after she had vanished into the bathroom to prepare for the day, Meryl reappeared to find Vash exactly where she'd left him. She lay an arm on his shoulder, smiling up to him with a sparkle in her violet eyes.

"I'm ready," she said quietly.

"Me too," Vash replied. He drew a deep breath. "I'm ready, too."

She hugged him.

"Let's go see Ivan," he said quietly.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Faye had to shout to be heard over the roar of Bran's giant black jeep as it raced southwest, taking them further from the City of Yesterday with each passing moment. She was grateful for the goggles and mask he'd given her to protect her face from the sand that whipped about in their wake, but it would've been a hell of a lot easier had the damn thing had a windshield. She didn't complain. Not about that, anyway. It was so much better than being some gang's sideshow skirt. This was a far cry from the pains she had been forced to endure at the hands of those two perverted bastards.

She knew she was safe here, at his side, and somehow, the great, black beast in the back of the truck made her feel all the more secure. Bran was quiet, and that was a oddity she hadn't expected. Despite what seemed to be a low IQ, he seemed to understand that she wasn't comfortable, and that she had a powerful, splitting headache.

For a girl who tried to use her sexuality to gain the upperhand, after those terrible violations she was feeling pretty low.

But now her curiosity had gotten the better of her. "Bran?" she said again. "Where are we going?"

"Bran take pretty lady to see Eden."

"Eden?" Faye's eyes glistened with curiosity behind the dark goggles. Tossing a strand of hair from her face she lay her head back and peered to the desert on the passenger's side. If there'd been glass in the window, she would have rested her head against it and spent a moment of contemplation to herself.

"Eden pretty world, place pretty lady can hide."

Faye blinked. "Hide?" She stared to the horizon, wishing for a moment that Spike and the others were with her.

"Pretty lady see. Real soon."

* * *

"This is a key, you say? Hmmm… Interesting, Mr.Vash. Very interesting indeed." Ivan Bosovich turned the little cross over in his pudgy fingers, admiring the metal tool Meryl had given him to inspect. "I've seen keys of this nature before, but not nearly of this detail. Whoever made this key had a little more in the way of technology. As you can see, New Hope has no need for such…perfection."

He placed the key back in Meryl's palm, leaving the girl to gaze somberly from him to the cross laying in her hand. Next to her, Vash shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. Slowly, the gunman turned to the window of his den and he peered to the dike which perfectly concealed New Hope from anyone who might be watching back at him from across the mysterious underground lake.

Problem was, he couldn't see them any better than they could see him. Hope in asking Ivan if he recognized the key had turned into the disappointment that they were no further now than they had been when they arrived here eight days ago. Vash was frustrated by the prospect that they might never know the true purpose of the key Meryl carried with her.

"This house," Meryl said. "It's not exactly what I'd consider normal compared to all the other buildings."

"Excellent observation, Miss Stryfe," Ivan replied, leaning forward. He had pulled out a big cigar and was chewing on the end of it as he fiddled for his lighter. "Most of what you see within these walls is entirely mine, but the structure itself was erected long before our ancestors came to this place. Who built it is a mystery, but that's really not unusual for a world construed of mystery."

"But the rest of New Hope was built by the settlers."

"Quite right, Mr. Vash. My grandparents and thirty-three other people came in a century and a quarter ago and built the whole place from the ground up, using this building as the town center. Within thirty years, the village of New Hope had become a prosperous, self-reliant town."

Vash nodded. "Makes sense. Mr. Bosovich, what do you know about the race that was here before mankind?"

"Nothing is impossible. I would say that would be difficult to answer because no one has really searched for the truth."

"And is this the only original structure that you've ever seen."

Ivan's brow rose at the question. "You mean, are there more out there? To be honest, I couldn't tell you. There are rumors of an ancient city not far from here, but none of the people here have ever seen such a place. They ask what use it would be for them to leave a place such as this to explore the possibility of truth behind mere rumor."

"Well, what brought you here?" Vash asked.

"My grandparents. They saw the lake from space before they landed."

Vash stiffened, spinning around to face him.

Meryl frowned. "But Vash was onboard the Project SEEDS flagship. His ship's crew was the only one not in cryogenic sleep when they arrived at this planet."

"And how, dear lady, do you know this?"

"I told her," Vash replied.

"Well," Bosovich said, "did it ever occur to you that my grandparents did not arrive with Project SEEDS?"

"It did. Someone had to be aboard that SEEDS shuttle Knives and I discovered."

A smile revealed the old man's perfect, white teeth. "Ah, very perceptive, Mr. Vash. Yes, my grandparents were co-commanders onboard the SEEDS shuttle _New Hope_, for which this very village was named. _New Hope _was a follow-up shuttle that came here with supplies for the settlers of Gunsmoke. When it was discovered how massive a failure that project had been, my grandparents, Dr. Joseph Bosovich and his wife, Emelia, decided to land the ship in a secretive place not far from the lake, but far enough to keep people from making a connection between the two."

"Do you have a list of the names of the crew?" Vash asked.

"Well, no. My grandparents had all records onboard destroyed, including the very name of the shuttle. They didn't exactly care to let too many know the truth behind their journey here. That, and the fact that they arrived nearly five years too late to help the people in the manner they were meant to be helped."

Meryl frowned. Most of this was ancient history for her, but it struck a chord with her that this was a history Vash had _lived_. "You mean, by the time they arrived, Gunsmoke was already converted into the land people know today?"

"That's right, my dear. And there was nothing any of them could do to change that. Even less today, I'm afraid."

"They certainly weren't able to hide much from you."

"My parents uncovered a lot of the truth from a surviving crewman who served _New Hope_. He was an older gentleman even way back then. I suspect he's been dead for eighty or ninety years, perhaps longer."

Vash frowned. "You know a name?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Ivan replied. "He was a major contributor to this village before he went to the outside. He was suffering from lung cancer and diabetes I believe." The man turned to the window and peered outside. "Now what was that name? Ah, yes. Quinn. Doctor Jebidiah Quinn."

"Jebidiah Quinn?" Vash whispered. Why was that name so familiar?

Meryl touched his arm. "Vash? What is it?"

The gunman's eyes widened. _Of course._

Before a word could be said, the three of them were interrupted by Ivan's serving girl. She carried a tray with three cups and a teapot. Her neat, brown hair was trimmed evenly with her jawline, and sparkling almond eyes that shone with wonder as she watched the Humanoid Typhoon. She was only a few inches taller than Meryl, and just as thin and dainty as the former insurance girl.

"Mr. Bosovich, we have more visitors," she announced as she set the tray on the coffeetable. "A big black jeep just pulled up to the Mercia's inn."

Ivan scratched his chin. "A jeep, eh?" He looked to Vash before turning his attention back to his servant. "Newcomers?"

She shook her head abruptly. "Oh, no, the driver's been here before. Only briefly. He was one of Morgante's men."

Vash looked up, meeting Meryl's gaze. "Morgante?" she asked.

The gunman rose to his feet. "Meryl, stay—"

"Like hell!" she snapped. "I'm with you to the end, Vash, remember?"

He gave her a long, troubled gaze, and then nodded. "Let's go."

Ivan grabbed his arm. "What's going on here?"

"Just a little investigation, Mr. Bosovich. That's all."

* * *

Faye, Bran, and Uri rode into New Hope. The bounty hunter was exhausted. She leaned against the dash, barely able to lift her head to gaze in wonder of the world around her. This was something so entirely different from what she had become accustomed to over the past week or so. Then again, she had seen a lot in the past two days that were far and beyond mere pain and hate. At least here, in the bizarre beauty of a quiet valley, with green meadows and a few groves of trees here and there, Faye found relaxation. Soon the jeep pulled up to one of the bigger buildings in the strange little village and Bran looked to her, grinning ear-to-ear. "This it," he announced.

The big man pulled himself out of the driver's seat and peered up the building. Faye thought the place looked cozy, constructed apparently out of clay bricks and whitewashed, with a gorgeous flower garden lining the front and sides of the building. Considering the hell Faye'd gone through the past two days, it looked like just what the doctor ordered. Uri leapt out of the back of the jeep and joined his awkward companion at the front of the jeep at the same moment that a girl in a plain white blouse and a pink skirt tore out of the front door. Faye lifted her head a little, frowning. It was almost a sickening scene. The girl leapt into Bran's arms, laughing with delight. The reaction of the big man was the last Faye would have expected. He scooped her up in his massive arms and swooped her around, grinning up to her.

"Bran!" she cried, tears already trickling down her cheeks.

"Mercia!" he echoed, crushing her into his powerful embrace.

"What the hell?" Faye muttered as she watched the odd couple with a shake of her head. She put her hand to her chin as she realized that the two actually seemed to fit hand-in-hand. The looks on their faces held pure joy, and that was enough for the bounty hunter. A little smile played on her lips as she leaned back. A soft breeze pulled her hair from her cheeks and cooled her face. "Cute."

Mercia slipped to her knees to hug the huge dog nipping playfully at her heels. Faye couldn't help but notice how small the girl was when the black fur of the beast hid her completely from view. Then again, the dog wasn't small. In fact, Ein wouldn't be much more than a tidbit for Uri. The thought brought an amused grin to her face.

As she was watching the reunion, she noticed the dog's ear perk up. His massive head swung back around behind Bran. Large, sharp teeth appeared through his curled lip. Faye followed his gaze and, when she saw what he did, she instantly shot to her feet.

"No fucking way!"

Meryl froze in place when she saw the off-world bounty hunter gawking back at her with a look of total shock. Next to her, Vash stiffened. His hand lowered toward the angel arm magnum at his hip, and she for once wished he would pull it out to defend his life and her own. But the girl—she searched her memory for the name, Faye—seemed less of a threat now than she had that day back at the SEEDS shuttle Vash had destroyed.

In fact, she looked nothing less than shocked to see them at all.

"It…it's you!" she stammered, looking to Vash.

Meryl risked a look up to her lover. The man hadn't moved since his eyes met Faye's, but she knew that he saw everything and everyone that was a potential danger. He held such a serious gaze, one she hadn't seen in some time. Here, in this moment, Vash left nothing to chance. "Maybe," he said quietly.

"Well, which one are you?" she demanded. "I have to know."

"I'm me. There's really not much more to tell."

Faye was visibly hateful at his response. "Damnit! Quit playing games with me! It's really annoying!" She hopped down off of the jeep, her eyes burning into Vash.

Meryl's hand slipped inside her jacket. _Not this time. Not now,_ she thought, gritting her teeth. Her small hand wrapped around one of the derringers from her collection. She started to pull the weapon free. Faye saw the movement and reached for her own sidearm, clipped at her hip. Vash reached for Meryl's arm. "Hey, wait—"

A powerful voice shattered the day with its rage. "_Vash! _Bran get Vash!"

The muscle-bound psycho crashed into the Humanoid Typhoon, swinging his massive arms with a terrifying strength and fury. Meryl cried out in fear as Vash disappeared beyond the mountain of flesh. She turned to find him, to help him in whatever way possible, forgetting about the off-worlder that had only a moment before been at the very center of attention. Her hopes soared when Vash leapt into the sky, over the head of his attacker, and brought his boots down. His heels connected sharply with the monster's forehead, sending him sprawling to the ground. Instantly, the black magnum came around, aimed directly between his opponent's eyes.

Seeing the danger her friend was in, Faye took a chance. Pulling her sidearm free, she sprung from the jeep. She could see that Vash, or Stryker, or whoever the hell it was, paid her no heed, certain that she was no threat to him. The thought made her all the more angry at being ignored, but Faye knew precisely how to take advantage of that.

Sixty billion double-dollars were within her grasp, she realized, as the cold steel of her pistol rested against the side of the gunman's head.

"Hah! Put it down right now, Mr. Vash!"

In that same moment, she felt the barrel of another gun planted firmly against the back of her head. "You first!"

The tension could be cut with a blade. They stood there, on the verge of chaos. Ivan Bosovich had seen enough. His hands clasped behind his back, the big man strode to within an arm's length of the fray.

"Relinquish your sidearms," he said gently. "There will be no battle on these hallowed grounds." Vash was the first to respond, thumbing the release so that his magnum clicked open and six bullets were sprung into the air. He swiped out with his free hand and caught them. Meryl followed his lead, and Faye hesitantly handed over her weapon. "Better. Much better. We are a peaceful people. This fight of yours, it has no place here."

Vash nodded. "We understand. I'm not in this for a fight anyway." He held out a hand to the big man at his feet, and Bran accepted the offer. "Sorry I had to kick you. You didn't leave me much choice."

Bran gave him a fool's grin. "Vash quick."

A sheepish smile spread over the gunman's face. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Why did you attack him anyway?" Meryl demanded, putting her finger square into the big man's chest. "He's never done anything to you."

"Little lady leave Bran alone," Faye said with a smirk. Meryl glared over to her, and Faye held up a palm. "Trust me."

Meryl gawked. "Trust you? We have no reason—"

"Meryl." She took Vash's warning in stride, drawing a deep breath, but she couldn't hide the distrust deeply etched in her violet eyes. Vash put his arm around her shoulder, holding her close as he inspected the big man. "It is you. I remember seeing you with Morgante a few months back. In the bar."

"Bar?" Bran said quietly. He shrugged. "Bran no drink. Alcohol bad."

Vash grinned. "I won't argue."

"Now wait just a damn minute," Faye spat. Suddenly a hand went to her temple as a splitting headache worked its way into her system. Her eyes became very heavy. "Can somebody _please_ tell me just what the hell is going on? Are you two enemies or not?"

"I don't claim any enemies," Vash replied. He reached out to steady her. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Don't touch me!" Faye rolled her eyes, but she just couldn't keep them opened. Everyone looked at her for a long minute. "You're so full of shit, you know that. I need you to cut the crap. For someone who doesn't claim enemies you sure have a whole hell of a lot of them. Vash, or Stryker, or whatever the hell your name is, I'm not dumb! I'm lost and I'm scared shitless, but I'm sure as hell not dumb." She hugged herself, turning her head to one side so that her chin rested against her shoulder. "This is a fucking nightmare."

"For once," Meryl murmured, eyeing the other with concern, "I agree with you."

"I'm not from around here," Faye said, blinking, but she couldn't fight the sleep beckoning her. "But I know enough to tell the good from the bad." She looked back to them quietly, wondering what the hell had become of her over the past few days. Quinn, she knew, was the enemy. She'd learned quite clearly since her imprisonment back at the old city. She'd learned enough from Bran to know that he was just a pawn in Quinn's plans, but those plans were still shrouded by shadows. What was the man planning on doing with the army she'd seen? "Vash, we have to talk. I've seen something…you might be able to help me figure out what the hell it was."

The small woman with Vash crossed her arms. "You saw thousands of him, didn't you?" Faye blinked, caught off guard by the interrogation. She glared at the small woman a moment, but had to stifle a yawn, so looked away. "Clones," Meryl added. "You saw an army of clones."

"Let me guess," Faye muttered. "Quinn, right?"

_She's right,_ Vash thought. He could tell by the look on Faye's face what she was thinking. "I've known about him for a long time now," he explained. Meryl blinked, turning her eyes to Vash. Why hadn't he mentioned that much to her? "Guy's name is Jebidiah Quinn. I guess he has it in for me. I don't know exactly what he's after, but he's using my DNA to get it."

Faye closed her eyes. It was getting to the point that she couldn't keep her eyes opened if she tried. "I can show you where they are…but not today."

"Pretty lady need sleep," Bran suggested.

She gave him a weary nod. "Yeah, pretty lady needs sleep."

Vash took her gently by the arm. "You get all the sleep you need. We don't have to leave until you're ready to go, okay?"

She nodded wearily. "That's a deal."


	45. Chapter Forty

FORTY: hamburger

Alone. She was alone.

Meryl's soft, violet eyes slid slowly open. She peered up into the darkness of the room. Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, she turned her eyes to the window. Scattered moonlight seeped in through the thin, silk curtains, casting the room in a pale glow. She watched it for a time, fingering the key around her neck as she mulled over the events of the day. What they had learned from Bosovich, as well as Faye Valentine upon her arrival, bothered her more than she cared to admit. Maybe it was bothering Vash too. The day had slipped by, almost stoically, and night fell. Little more was said of the whole ordeal while they waited for Faye to get some much-needed rest; she and Bran had been given lodge in two of the other rooms of Mercia's home.

But where _was_ Vash? He hadn't said anything about leaving. She could still taste her lover's lips on hers, even after he had gone. She longed to kiss him again, to hold him close and swear to him that everything would be all right. If only she were certain of that herself.

Pushing herself to her feet, Meryl grabbed for her robe and pulled it over her slender form. Wearily, she stumbled for the bathroom. The light was out, the room empty. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she headed on in, closing the door behind her. When she was through, she came back out into the bedroom, stretching, and moved over to the window. She wondered again where Vash was. He was the type who would vanish from time to time. It was nothing rare or unexpected.

But, she wondered where of all the places he could go in New Hope he would actually go. Maybe, she decided, he was on the rooftop. She slipped out of her robe and changed into a nightgown, and headed outside to find him. The house felt empty without Vash. Mercia was probably fast asleep, though Meryl knew it was late enough in the morning that she would be up before long, preparing for the day to come.

Uri, the massive black dog that had befriended Bran, lay at the doorstep. He lifted his huge head up to peer at her with one eye as she paused in the doorway, staring down at him. Bran and Mercia had ensured her the big dog wouldn't bite. Meryl wasn't so sure. He didn't act like a man-eater, but his massive maw seemed large enough to encompass her head without too much trouble. He looked quite comfortable, and that was encouraging. She had never been fond of dogs, especially big dogs that outweighed her by a hundred pounds.

The beast lay his head down with a low grunt. Meryl took that as a good sign and slipped quickly past him, out into the night. He didn't act like he was going to jump up and bite her—in fact, he looked lazy and fat, especially now—but that didn't mean she could simply expel her fears. She didn't like dogs, and hadn't since she was very young. That was just the long and short of it.

The world before her was dark, but cozy. She wrapped her arms tight about herself. The dry air was cool and soothing against her skin. Eden—she'd come to think of it as Eden, and not by New Hope, as it was called by its inhabitants—was even more beautiful at night than during the daytime, she decided. Still, something ate at her. It didn't hit her until she turned the corner of the building and found the empty patch of grass between the house and a nearby grove of trees.

Meryl froze in mid-stride. Bran's jeep was missing.

Vash had left Eden, and she had a pretty good idea of where he'd gone. He'd probably made the decision to go on to the lost city on his own. He hadn't wanted to bother her with troubles they both knew she couldn't help him with. He probably wanted to scope out the situation and then come back for her. That made pretty good sense, actually. Surely he wouldn't go in without her.

She only hoped she had it right.

Her heart wasn't at all sure. Slowly, Meryl lay back against the house. Her knees buckled beneath her, and slowly, she slid down into a sitting position in the soft grass. Her heart pounded in her chest. She felt utterly alone.

* * *

A heavy wind whipped the sand of a desolate city about them as Vash strode from the arena with Faye at his heels. Bran leaned heavily against his jeep at the edge of the ruins, massive arms folded over his massive chest. Behind them lay only the darkness of the night. Faye fumed over what they had discovered: the vacant ruins of a long-forgotten city.

Whatever it was that had been here before, it was gone now. The army, Quinn, Morgante, everything that he so feared, the threat against his very life, his world, had evaded him. For the time being.

"They were here, damnit! I saw them in the arena!"

Vash stared to the heavens for a moment, contemplating the future. There was so much that he had to do, so little time in which to accomplish the task. The winds had vanquished any trail that might have guided him toward the army of clones. He wanted to say something encouraging, to put her mind to rest that he believed her, but he stayed silent. It wasn't her fault the clones were gone. They were off to do whatever Quinn intended of them. Faye had no control over that.

Still, he didn't speak.

"Vash, are you listening? Damn you, they were here!"

"Faye, shut up," he said quietly, shifting his gaze to him.

"Huh?" Her face twisted in confusion, and then lit into a fireball of fury as she clenched her fists tight at her sides. "Hey!"

Vash eyed her. He was in a dark mood and didn't particularly care to be harassed at the moment. "We've got a problem. They're going south."

"South?" She frowned, biting her lower lip. Her anger evaporated as she considered what he'd just told her. "You mean toward the cities?"

"Not quite, but I know where they're headed."

"But how could you possibly…"

He cut her off with a glare. "I just know, Faye. Let's get back to New Hope." Vash turned from her and headed again for the jeep. A distant sound interrupted his thoughts. He turned his head slightly to the side, peering out into the empty desert to the south, and froze in mid-stride.

In that moment, the crack of gunfire echoed across the land. Vash leapt to the side, snatching Faye, and tumbling across the rock-hard ground. Faye let out a cry of pain as he landed on her, and then rolled so that his back was to the gunfire, the girl cradled in his arms. Bran collapsed as well, holding his hands tightly over his ears as he bellowed in fury. Vash inspected Faye for injury, but she didn't seem hurt. She seemed angry. Already her hand was pulling free the pistol at her hip. Vash rested a hand against hers. She glared at the interference.

"What are…"

"Hush!" Vash hissed. He turned his head so that he peered with one eye toward the darkness. He knew what he had seen, something she could never see. It would have been difficult even in the light of day. It seemed a miracle that he'd spotted the man in the darkness at all, taking aim at them from a distance. He looked back to Faye, voice very low. "Get your ass to the jeep. Stay with Bran, you got that?"

She appeared ready to protest, but instead gasped when black steel flashed before her eyes. The angel arm magnum clicked as the safety was released. Vash checked to be certain the weapon was ready, and then pushed himself to his knees.

"You heard me, Faye," he hissed, gesturing with the gun toward the jeep. He turned a cautious eye to the shadows. "It's not safe out in the open. Now move it!"

Any argument she might have prepared was quelled in that instant. She struggled to make her way, staying low to the ground, toward the jeep. An occasional bullet torched the night just overhead, but Vash knew by trajectory of the bullets that they were no more than warning shots.

He had to get the line of sight focused away from his friends.

In a furious rush, Vash the Stampede vanished into the darkness. He angled southwest, away from the enemy, gun up and ready to fire a volley to draw the enemy's attention away from his friends. Already he could see them. Whoever they were, they seemed intent. His heart pounded in his ears as he raced on. A spray of gunfire cut the path before and behind him; somehow he avoided injury. He still felt the effects of the battle with the female. Pains of wounds yet unhealed in the time since the battle pulsed through him with each lengthy stride.

Bullets whizzed past him. _There, _he thought. _Gotta follow that line of sight!_

He dipped his head low and dodged to the right. Fast, intent, the plant-spawn took aim. He hesitated, unsure if he'd actually seen his target. Before he could make up his mind, a bullet slammed into the desert floor at his feet, sending a cloud of debris up into his face. Vash cringed and spit out a mouthful of dirt. He dodged left, dove to his stomach, and spun clear of another gunshot.

As the world about him whirled in his vision, he came to a knee and took aim. Before he could return fire, a third bullet brushed his cheek. He felt the heat of it only briefly. A scarlet trickle seeped through the broken flesh. He cringed, his vision blurred. His target was lost.

The crack of a forth shot resonated through the desert night.

_Keep your head on straight, Needle Noggin!_

Vash grimaced as Wolfwood slid again into his conscience. He tried to ignore the voice. Desperate, he turned to the left. Hot pain torched his shoulder as a bullet ripped the black jacket at his right shoulder and raked against the flesh. He let out a cry of pain and dropped behind a rock. He grabbed the wound and felt hot blood ooze between his fingers.

_They're good,_ he thought, fighting to gather his wits.

_But you're better, _Wolfwood scolded. _So act like it!_

_It's three of them, and one of me._

Three Vash clones against the authentic version. What advantage did a single plant-spawn have against three others that were his equal?

_Desire to succeed, Needle Noggin!_

Vash cringed. More gunshots torched the sky just overhead.

_You have Meryl, you idiot! _Vash's eyes flew open in realization. _Fight for Meryl!_

The pain forgotten, the rage of understanding exploded through Vash. The desire was there, the hot need to face this all-encompassing darkness that swarmed all about him, to cut through it like a flash of lightning, to reach finality on the other side. _See the future,_ he thought as his destiny pounded in his ears. He came up in that moment, squeezing off a single bullet as he darted forward. All about him, he felt the heat of bullets as they whizzed past his head, none finding their mark as he dodged this way and that in driving effort to take the battle to the enemy.

As he moved forward, a sudden realization slammed through him.

The enemy wasn't shooting to kill. They wanted something. But what? A distraction? Vash didn't have time to answer the question. All that he knew was they weren't trying to kill him. The thought encouraged him, and he sped forward, avoiding the dodges now, letting his legs pump like mad as he closed the gap between them.

As he drew closer, Vash lifted the angel arm gun. Another bullet whipped past him, and nicked his cheek; he felt the heat of it as it stung the delicate skin, the sharp pain as it torched the flesh. A spray of hot blood pulsed from the wound. He began to rethink his theory.

He knew he was much too close to slow down now. The decision had been made, and there was no going back. Only about thirty feet from the enemy, Vash gave a mighty kick to the ground and shot skyward, taking aim at his clones with the magnum.

Five shots later, he took aim with his machine gun.

There could be no mercy, he knew. These men had already chosen their fate.

Vash's expression hardened as he came over them, flinging himself head over heels as he soared through the sky, and squeezed the trigger.

He saw the plant-spawn there, staring up at him through the strips of metallic armor over their eyes. They bore no true expressions. Vash could see each bullet as they cut through the air, could feel his heart racing in his chest as he watched each one find their mark, slamming home with the force of a jackhammer.

Flesh turned to hamburger in a matter of a few seconds.

When he landed on his feet, after completing the grim task he had taken upon himself, Vash the Stampede crumpled to a knee, dropped the angel arm weapon to the dusty ground, and put his head into his biological right hand. Tears mixed with the blood of the two wounds from the enemy's bullets. The salt of them stung his wounds, but he didn't care.

No wound could ever cut so deep as the wounded spirit.

He had killed again. It was a feeling he just couldn't get used to.

_I told you so,_ a voice whispered to him from beyond the grave. He felt a cold hand rest against his shoulder, but when he glanced back, he saw that he was still alone. Only the death of his three duplicates remained. Vash drew a slow breath, shaking against the fear.

"What now, Knives?" Vash mumbled as he sobbed into his palms. "What do I do now?"

He knew it was a question Knives could never answer. It was simply a question he would have to answer for himself.

* * *

The journey back to New Hope was as bleak and quiet as the trip to the ruins. The City of Yesterday, as Bran had described it. The former Gung-Ho Gun seemed edgy, bent over the steering wheel, broad shoulders stooped as he peered out into the darkness. Behind them, a sliver of one of Gunsmoke's twin suns appeared just beyond the eastern horizon, and a wondrous, crimson glow crept steadily across the dawn.

Vash watched the road ahead of him with his elbow rested on car door and his cheek on his knuckles. He hadn't said a word since they'd left the city, and that bothered Faye. She knew what he had done to his duplicates was torturing him inside, though she wasn't exactly sure she understood why. It had been simple: kill or be killed. Vash had done exactly what he'd had to do, no more or less. Yet here he was, moping as if he'd committed a heinous crime. This was a guy deemed the worst criminal in this miserable little rock's entire dismal history, yet he was mourning the deaths of men created from his own blood in some Godforsaken lab. The very thought made her want to scream. What the hell was wrong with this lunatic? Did he have any pride whatsoever?

But Faye understood. He had pride—a lot of pride, she could tell—and maybe that was the problem. He took pride in life—not just his own, but pride in the lives of everyone that he came into contact with throughout his life. They'd only known each other briefly, having met twice, and on awkward occasions, and yet he treated her respectfully, as if her friendship, or at least her opinion of him, was all that mattered in his world.

If his biggest concern was public perception, Faye realized, his goal was unobtainable. The people feared him, and hated him for the rumors that the hand of fate had dealt him. No, he didn't treat her like a human being because he feared a drop in public opinion. He was honestly concerned for her well-being. Faye thought that rare for anyone, let alone a ruthless outlaw with a sixty billion double-dollar bounty on his head.

She didn't know whether to be grateful or mortified, being as she'd never actually had someone care for her well-being since waking up from her cryogenic sleep several years ago. Not really. She continued to sit there, hands folded in her lap as she peered over to him, wondering.

Who was this Vash the Stampede, who could cause so much turmoil at the mere mention of his name? Faye wondered.

She thought they must be a sight to see. A massive mess of a man with the mind of child, an outlaw in disguise, and herself, a stranger from another world who knew nothing about the land where she and her bounty hunter comrades had been marooned.

Finally, as the sun rose completely up over the horizon, they came to the underground lake that surrounded the strange world known as New Hope. Bran brought his jeep up onto the lake and tore across the soft, salt-poisoned soil, toward the village beyond.

"Vash?" He glanced to her out of the corner of his eye, and shifted so that he was looking at her. He smiled, a false smile, she knew, something he brought out only to encourage her. Even though she knew the smile meant nothing to him, it warmed her spirit. Folding her arms over her chest, she leaned back and studied him with a thoughtful expression. "What will you do now?"

His shrug was noncommittal. "Dunno. Maybe take it easy for awhile."

Faye arched an eyebrow. Vash turned his smile to the land about him, as if to sightsee while he had the time. She slumped deeper into her seat, lowering her eyes. She didn't really know him. How could she know him, after the little time they'd been together, and yet she already knew something very important about him.

Vash the Stampede was a man with secrets. Dark secrets.

She didn't try to speak to him for the rest of the journey. Whatever he was planning on doing, she knew he wouldn't be taking it easy. Whatever was next, he would be thrust into danger the likes she had never known, yet she knew not to speak of it. He wouldn't be talking to her about it, anyway.

Soon, the big, black jeep rolled up over the manmade dike that surrounded New Hope and started off down the path toward Mercia's. Sitting there on the front porch were two young women, about the same build and height, one a few years older. Meryl pushed her long hair back and peered toward the sound of the oncoming jeep, and rose to her feet next to Mercia. Bran pulled up to a stop at the front door. Instantly Vash leapt out over the side. Faye rose and lay her arms against the crossbar between the front and back seats and peered to the couple as Vash engulfed Meryl in his tender embrace.

"Vash! You idiot! You're hurt again!"

He smiled. "Love you too."

Meryl sighed heavily and hugged him back. "I thought we were supposed to be doing this together."

Vash shook his head slowly and sighed. "I knew ahead of time Quinn wouldn't be there," he said after a moment. "I just had to check it out, see if there were any more pieces to this puzzle of ours waiting for us. I needed to get there before the trail ran cold."

Faye wondered if he was speaking the truth. He'd said he wanted to check things out. He hadn't even needed her, but she'd insisted. After nearly a day's rest, she couldn't see herself not going back to the scene of the crime. Maybe it was the bounty hunter in her. Whatever it was, it smelled of money. Dirty money.

Besides, now that she had Vash the Stampede within her grasp, she couldn't let him out of sight, could she? A small smirk curled the corner of her lips. She wondered what the guys were doing. They'd probably be kicking themselves to know just how close she was to sixty billion double-dollars, and yet, something held her back.

Probably her conscience. After all, Vash wasn't at all the man people thought he was. That kind of thing wasn't supposed to effect the job of a bounty hunter. Money was money, and she couldn't let her emotions stand in the way.

Yet, in a great many ways, the situation here was different.

"You were shot, weren't you?"

Vash grinned. "Just nicked my cheek a couple times."

"Vash! What the hell were you doing?" Meryl was redfaced as she jabbed the end of her finger against his chest. "Trying to make it look real?"

"Trying? Hell, I was up against a trio of lookalikes, Meryl. But they were more than that. They share my skills, too." His smile faded as he slowly shook his head. "Believe me, it was real enough."

Meryl sighed and remembered the realization she'd come to when she'd found that he had left her behind. While he'd run into trouble along the way, she knew she'd been right. Vash had gone to see what lay ahead, or at least, what might have been there before. Still, she wondered. "Vash, were there really thousands of…of them?"

"I didn't see them, but yeah, they were there."

"What about the three?"

Vash drew a slow breath and tapped his prosthetic arm. She swallowed. It seemed her lover needed to reload. She lay her head against his shoulder. "Were you followed?"

Vash's expression hardened. "We don't have to worry about that."

Faye glanced to Bran, who watched Vash and Meryl out of the corner of his eye as he remained in the driver's seat. Mercia had come along to his side, leaning over to him, her head on his shoulder. Uri sat in the doorway of the house, watching Vash intently, his large, pink tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Meryl smiled, relieved. "No witnesses?"

"There was nobody left," Faye confirmed. "Vash took care of that."

But the plant-spawn shook his head. "No, that's not it." He drew a slow breath, fixing his lover with a stern gaze, a look on his face that assured her that trouble was brewing on their horizon. There would be no more rest. It was time for action. "Meryl, they built an army of thousands. If they were going after you or me, don't you think that's a bit excessive?" Faye frowned at that, turning her eyes back to Vash. He didn't sound at all like as the idiot she'd originally took him for. By the cold look on Meryl's face, something important had struck home. Vash put words to his feelings, words that made Faye's blood run cold: "He's planning on conquest."

"Who would want this fucking rock?" Faye muttered.

Meryl shot her a look, but she couldn't blame her for saying what she was thinking. There really wasn't much use for Gunsmoke. Meryl had never had any, save that it was the only home she had ever known. If not for Gunsmoke, Project SEEDS would have failed in the dead of space. Milly, Wolfwood, her former Bernardelli coworkers, her own parents, despite the trouble her father had caused and the pain he continued to bring to the world…so many of the people she had come to know would never have existed.

For Meryl, that was a troubling thought.

Vash lowered his shoulders as he sighed, staring somberly into Meryl's eyes.

"It's not the planet they're after, Faye," he said quietly.

"Then what is it?"

Uri rose from his haunches and strolled slowly over toward the plant-spawn, as if moving to guard both him and his lover. All eyes turned to Vash as he considered his words. Meryl took his arm, reminding him that she was here for him, and that she would always be at his side. She felt him give her a reassuring squeeze. _Good man,_ she thought.

Vash narrowed his eyes, grim. "He wants the Millennium Arc."


	46. Interlude 5

INTERLUDE: from the diary of meryl stryfe

_July 28, Year 131, 12:13 p.m. – Pain. The more I am forced to consider all the possible consequences that lie in wake of our decisions, the more I feel the pain of our dispositions. Now, we draw two others into the storm. For Faye Valentine and her strange companion, former Gung-Ho Gun, Bran the Toddler, it is only the beginning._

_Despite our troubles, Vash seems to be taking all these bizarre changes in stride. So many innocent people may find themselves caught between the jaws of death, yet all we can do is move forward in their defense. I don't think there is any real protection for anyone. All that remains is choice. Vash will move on, because that is just the kind of man he is. So much has been stolen from him, and yet he moves onward because he knows no other way. Of course, I too am bound to this obligation, for it is my own father who stands in the way of our success._

_Faye and Bran have their reasons. Faye has suffered at the hands of Quinn and his men. I don't know much about her except that she's a dangerous girl who walks a fine line—maybe even runs blindly, I think. Would that be a fair assumption? Hard to say. Whatever the path, I think she's leaning dangerously close to disaster. Bran the Toddler on the other hand…_

_What can I say of Bran? He's a Gung-Ho Gun that was probably suckered into a life of crime. He's aptly named for his childlike curiosity and convincingly low IQ. But he has something that the rest of the Gung-Ho Guns don't. Along with childlike curiosity comes childlike innocense. I think, shown a little understanding, maybe even some love, and he can shed the darkness that lingers in his heart._

_These are two people who deserve opportunity. Vash trusts them in his own way. Without my support, I really have no room in his heart. I have my doubts, but doubt can be overcome. Vash is the one who proved that to me._

_The question is painstakingly obvious. The answer is unclear, whether I'm ready for it or not. Where do we go from here? How do we face an army of thousands, and stop my father and this Dr. Quinn from unleashing hell on the people of this world? The truth is, we are truly defenseless in this scenario that was undoubtedly set up to put Vash into an impossible situation._

_Lucky for us, he's faced impossible situations before, and won._

_I trust in him. I guess if I didn't I wouldn't have come back to find him. I suppose it's possible I'd be back working with Bernardelli, doing the company's paperwork in the main office back at December. Filing and reading reports all day long. Dreaming simple dreams._

_The thought of Milly makes me smile. Why wouldn't it? She has been my shining star from the beginning, even before we came to meet Vash. A part of me dreams those dreams with her in mind. There is so much pain in her. Maybe Sean has come to mend some of those wounds. Wherever they are, I hope they're smiling. I hope they see light at the end of whatever tunnel they're traveling. For myself? Well, what can I really say?_

_For myself, there is nothing but great relief and satisfaction, knowing that Vash is healthy and that he wants me here, at his side. I couldn't leave him if I wanted to. Besides, those perfect green eyes still send bolts of electricity racing through my heart and coursing through my soul. It's just that now, I can show him more than embarrassment whenever that feeling threatens to overcome my spirit. Now, it a part of that spirit, fitting to my soul like a glove, the final piece to the puzzle that once was my shattered heart. And that's just me. Pure and simple Meryl, no more, no less. That's the source of my pain._

_Hurts like hell, doesn't it?_


	47. Chapter Forty One

FORTY-ONE: means to an end

"We're running out of time."

Quinn flicked his cigarette out the window and into the roaring winds of the desert as it raced by. He didn't acknowledge Ariel as he pulled his hat low over his eyes and leaned back. A tiny smirk touched the corner of his mouth as he let his body relax. The plant-spawn continued to watch him from the corner of her eye.

"He's on his way, sir. We will be thrust into confrontation."

He savored the precious seconds of the silence before she would speak again, no matter how brief that time was. Quinn knew Ariel well, and he knew what she was capable of. Now, she would be in direct contact with the Humanoid Typhoon, the first time since he had disappeared. He now knew he'd gone to New Hope. That was fine with Quinn. As long as Vash had been in New Hope, he couldn't be out causing trouble as his army headed south.

"Quinn…"

He held up a hand to silence her, lay it back over his chest, but said nothing.

Ariel watched him for a few more moments before returning her attention to the road. Quinn considered his options. Right now, Vash the Stampede was the least of his concerns. That was why the bounty hunter Spike Spiegel had been obtained. Those two could go at it for as long as Spike could hold up. If he was anywhere as good as Starks claimed, it could be a very interesting day.

"I want you to separate them, Ariel."

"You mean Vash and his companions."

"Precisely. I do not care for Spiegel to know that Vash and that bitch Bran freed are together. While they're duking it out, you can keep Bran busy. The girls will stay with him so long as Vash appears to be missing."

"And what do I do with the bounty hunter after Vash defeats him?"

Quinn lifted the brim of his hat and gave her a cold stare. They both knew Vash wouldn't kill the bounty hunter. Spike would survive, at least at first, Quinn thought with a smirk.

"Eliminate him."

* * *

Vash stood tall in the back of Bran's jeep, Meryl sitting next to him. Uri was hunched over at Vash's right, tail wagging as his large head hang over the side through the window, tongue dragging over the side of his mouth. In the front, Faye leaned forward and watching the southern horizon for signs of Quinn's army as Bran drove on. Vash knew she couldn't see anything, only a vast amount of sand and horizon.

A hand rested gently on his. "Vash?"

He smiled down to the love of his life and lay a hand on her shoulder. He adjusted his goggles and peered again out to the endless desert before them. They were still many iles from the fringe, but who knew how much of a head start Quinn's army had on them. If there was anything they could use to their advantage, he didn't know what that could possibly be. He knew only that time was not their ally, and when it finally ran out, their whole world would come crashing down around them.

It would have been easier had he never rushed off to July in search of lost hope. Had he just stayed aboard the Flying Ship with the old man and all the others who had once been so lucky to remain in orbit over the desolate world of Gunsmoke. Vash hated thinking about all the possibilities, all the what-ifs and might-have-beens. The truth was that this was the unfortunate truth of his existence, and that because of Knives it would always be this way. All Vash could do was follow the path chosen for him, and meet fate with all his steadfast courage.

Vash considered what Knives would say if he were here.

_I told you so, _came a voice from beyond the grave

"Vash?" Meryl pressed, giving his arm a tug.

He glanced down to to her, offering her his brightest smile, despite the dread that filled his soul. "We're in this together," he said. "No ifs ands or buts about it."

She nodded. "Vash, what is the Millennium Arc?"

He frowned, trying to think of how best to describe the mystery that was only still unfolding in his mind. Before he could put words to a coherent thought, their world was lit up by the powerful burst of a mortar shell. The jeep spun wildly out of control, barreling off the road and dropping into a low, narrow gorge to the right of the road.

Vash cringed as he looked about. His eyes widened when he realized that the girls were both gone. Bran was rubbing the top of his head and groan.

"Ahhh…Bran have headache."

"Meryl, Faye!" Vash rose to his feet looking about. For a moment his heart stopped. This whole battle was about protecting the people he cared for, and now he had been so foolish that he had let them slip from his protective gaze. Where the hell had they gone? Only a moment later, to his relief, Uri dropped down on the hood of the jeep, both girls clinging to his fur. The massive dog lowered to a crouch, maw slightly parted in a snarl.

Just above them, Vash saw a tinge of red. He narrowed his eyes, fighting to get a better look.

It is a means to an end, Vash the Stampede. The voice in his head, cool, low, seductive, was one he recognized instantly.

"You," Vash hissed, his voice low. He shot Bran a look as his hand wrapped about the handle of his Angel Arm magnum. "Get them moving! I'll meet you at the Millennium Arc."

"Bran help Vash! Ariel is like Vash!"

"Bran, I need you to help Faye and Meryl. Please, just get going!"

"Vash, you can't–"

"Meryl! Don't argue with me. You need to scout out the Millennium Arc! They'll help you." He let the freshly-loaded machine gun spring free from the chamber in his prosthetic arm. "You've gotta trust me! Get moving."

"And what the hell are you going to do?" Faye demanded. She had her sidearm out and ready for a battle. Vash couldn't let her face that battle. This was a battle intended for him and him alone.

"I have a score to settle," he said darkly, and leapt up to the top of the gorge, vanishing from sight before any more protests could be made.

* * *

Soon he stood only a few feet from the female plant-spawn. The girl stared at him, stroking the blonde braid hanging over her left shoulder with blood-red gloves. He risked a glance to the gorge below and saw the others climbing back into the jeep. He had to smile as he heard the vehicle's power engines starting, and even started to run. Soon they wheeled out of a tight spot and down through the small gorge.

Even from this distance, he thought he could see Meryl watching back at him. Without so much as a wave, Vash turned back to face the woman, taking on a grim expression. She had a smug smirk on her face, a smirk he was determined to wipe away. Slowly, he drew the black magnum and took aim.

"Hello again, Vash. Did you miss me?"

Vash sneered. "Not even a little bit."

She smiled. "I'm quite touched, I assure you."

In that instant, a second mortar shell smashed into the earth between them, kicking dirt up into the air and concealing the woman from view.

Vash cursed, never taking his aim—both weapons firmly secured as he waited for the attack he knew was about to come—from the thick cloud. He had superb vision, but the dust was so thick he couldn't spot even the faintest movement in the darkness. He considered firing off a volley of bullets, but his conscience held him back. He saw no point in risking harm when there was a possibility of avoiding disaster.

"Come on," he whispered. "Where are you?"

And then, as the dust began to settle, he saw the one thing he did not intend.

The silhouette of a man appeared, a thick head of hair and something big and bulky resting over his right shoulder. He knew instantly what he was seeing.

"Wolfwood…" he mumbled as he lowered his weapons.

The man took a stride forward, lifting a brow. Like Wolfwood so often appeared, there was a cigarette dangling from his mouth, the Cross Punisher II slung over his shoulder. But this was not Wolfwood.

"Hey, Vash the Stampede," the man said. He removed the cross from his shoulder, slamming it into the desert floor, and unclipped the belt that held the tarp to the weapon. Without a doubt, it was Wolfwood's second Cross Punisher. He remembered telling Meryl that they had it, that they would somehow try to use it against them. "I've been looking all over the place for you."

Vash hadn't expected this, but it seemed fitting, even as the man lifted the weapon to his shoulder and took aim. He had to smile a little at the irony. "Sure you want to get into this?"

The stranger smirked. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

Vash nodded and lifted his weapons.

It was time for a showdown.

* * *

This was the part Meryl had dreaded, the moment in which she and Vash would be separated by obligation. She knew that he had to face the menace in red alone, and she knew that it was imperative that they somehow find themselves to the Millennium Arc, and that they must somehow do it without Vash guiding them. Now, their guide was Bran, the hulking brute of a man who had nearly been her enemy, now their friend by the grace of God.

Meryl thought it was an amazing thing, seeing the confidence in his eyes. She watched him with quiet curiosity, wanting to speak but finding there was nothing she could think to say. Fighting back the fear that had been eating at her, the worry that Vash may be in serious trouble, she observed the path just ahead.

In that moment, Uri touched her arm. She gave his nose a squeeze, thanking him silently for rescuing her and Faye. _Everything will fall into place, Meryl._

She blinked, watching down at him. She knew the voice was only in her head, but she could have sworn by the look in Uri's eyes that he was thinking the same thing. She smiled grimly, scratching him behind the ears. He leaned forward, pressing the side of his face against her hand in an intimate gesture. She was amazed at how gentle he was. "I know," she whispered. "With Vash, things always do."

The big dog licked her face with his hot, rough tongue. She grinned. There was such intensity in those big blue eyes. Meryl thought about what she had heard of wolves, the stories that her father used to tell her all those years ago, how legend once spoke of the unique connection between man and wolf. It had occurred to her that Uri was more than what he seemed. He was simply too big to be a dog. A wolf? Perhaps. What she had once believed to be fairy tale, a children's story Richard Stryfe used to read to his daughter before bed, Uri seemed to have proved true. She would have been suspicious, but Vash had already taught her that nothing was impossible.

With a sigh, she leaned against the massive black beast. He leaned back against her, and she felt the confidence he gave her by simply offering her his friendship It gave Meryl hope in realm where darkness reigned, spilling light into her aching heart.

"How much further?" she asked him, not really expecting an answer.

_Not far, _Uri's eyes seemed to reply.

She smiled, but soon she drifted back to the dark thoughts that had been plaguing her mind. She knew how much it meant to them all that they stop Quinn from doing whatever it was he intended to do. She didn't know who Quinn was, but she was pretty sure that he was the one at the center of the madness that threatened to claim the whole of her world. Was it Quinn that had made Richard Stryfe into the man he had become? Was Quinn somehow responsible for ruining her life?

By that same token, was Quinn in some way responsible for Meryl meeting up with Vash the Stampede? The truth of the situation appeared to inevitable.

She had left home because of her father. Her father had become a Gung-Ho Gun, and had probably been guided just as much by Quinn's leadership than by Knives.

"Meryl," Faye said, turning back to look at her. "We're in this together. We'll find a way to help your friends."

_Friends._ Meryl shook her head.

Faye frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I was just thinking about Stryker and Milly. I'm worried ab–"

She was cut off by the sound of a gunshot tearing through the gorge. Bran jumped as he watched the hood of the jeep burst open, steam barreling through the fresh hole. "No! Jeep no drive!" He looked up. "Where? Where is it?"

A shadow suddenly appeared over Meryl, and she spun back to see a tall, feminine silhouette standing over her.

"Right here, Bran. Right here."

In that instant, Meryl tasted the leather of a blood-red boot. Her face exploded in pain and she collapsed to the floor of the jeep. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. She coughed, spitting a pool of blood onto the floorboard. Another gunshot echoed through the gorge, but the woman in red turned to the right, letting the bullet miss by mere inches.

Without missing a beat, she pulled her own sidearm. Faye blinked and jumped from the jeep just as the glock was fired, tearing a huge hole into the leather seat where she had been only a moment before. Her own gun skidded away from her, and as she snatched at it she realized it was too far from her reach.

Uri leapt toward the plant-spawn. The crack of a gunshot ripped the still desert air. A spray of crimson splattered across the desert floor, and the dog let out a pained whimper. The plant-spawn smirked, wrenched the creature from midair, tossing him easily away from her, and turned back to the two women. She looked down at Meryl, the girl she needed, and then to Faye, the girl she that would only get in the way. The tough cookie.

"Just a moment, Meryl Stryfe. I've got a bug to swat." She hopped down and strode over to Faye. The scantily-clad bounty hunter was on her knees, facing away from her, trying to scramble to her sidearm. "Hey, Lucy the Liar. Sounds like you could be a Gung-Ho Gun, if you weren't such a wuss."

Faye clawed her way to within an arm-length of her weapon. No way in hell she would ever reach it. The plant-spawn had to smirk. "Enjoy this moment, Lucy. It'll be you last." She lifted the glock, taking aim. It would only be a second, and then Faye Valentine would be out of the picture. She started to squeeze the trigger.

As the gunshot filled the air, a mountain of human flesh crashed into the woman and pummeled her into the ground. Faye flinched, eyes clenched shut, but opened them a moment later to realize that she was unscathed. "Ariel no hurt pretty woman! Pretty woman Bran's friend!" He continued to swing at her, powerful fists slamming into her face and chest.

She held her own, lifting her gun even as she took the beating, and fired.

Bran's scream echoed out over all other sounds.

The woman kicked the freak of nature away, revealing the gaping wound in his stomach. The man was breathing heavily, using the last of his strength to live as all other functions shut down. Faye screamed out in terror as the man who had saved her for the second time lay bleeding to death before her. The female plant-spawn, red leather glistening with blood, grinned as she rose to her feet. Meryl could see that her face was badly hurt. Blood and bruises covered her face, and no doubt her nose was broken, as it now hung slightly to the left of her once perfect face.

She turned her head to the side and spit out a red wad, completely with tooth fragments. "Nice, Bran. You never could finish a job."

She took aim and fired three more shots into the poor man's skull. She grinned. A moment later, a gloved hand tapped her shoulder.

She turned and saw Faye standing right next to her, fury in her eyes.

"Eat this, bitch!"

This time, there was no getting out of the way. Faye's gun sparked, the crack of the gunshot echoing across the desert. Time stood still as the two girls watched as the plant-spawn's head disappeared in a crimson cloud.


	48. Chapter Forty Two

FORTY-TWO: edward isn't edward

Jet turned to Ed and frowned. "You're sure he's in here somewhere?"

The girl didn't answer at first. She seemed intent on the odd computer they had discovered. It was connected to the ship's power supply, meaning that this ship, if it was a ship, still had capabilities. He trusted Ed's judgement, but she'd said very little since Henry Starks and his men had left them to explore. She acted as if something were bothering her, but there was no telling what that was. Sometimes her eyes would widen at the flood of information and on a coupld of occasions she had even made noises to indicate how amazing she found everything to be.

After a long moment, she slammed her hand on the panel.

"No doubt about it! Bounty-person isn't here!"

"I thought you said he was."

Ed shook her head. "Nope! Bounty-person here is not the _real_ bounty-person. Vash the Stampede was cloned and now duplicate-person is here!"

"You mean Stryker."

She nodded. "Yep! And Edward knows where Faye-Faye is."

He rose his brow.

"Faye-Faye is with bounty-person!"

"_What!_"

The girl giggled. "You heard Ed!" she teased.

The whole world seemed to be crumbling down around him, and Jet didn't have the first clue what to do.

"Well, what should we do then?"

"Edward wants to see duplicate-person."

"You think that'll help us out at all?"

Ed giggled. "Duh!" She slapped up onto her head and began to spin around with her arms outstretched, laughing her head off. "Edward wants to know why Jet-person and Edward aren't here."

Jet blinked. "What?"

"Well, Edward isn't Edward!"

Jet blinked again.

"Ed, what the hell are you babbling about?"

She gave him a solemn look and pointed to herself. "Edward isn't Edward and Jet-person–" She reached out and pressed a finger against his chest, looking up at him hopefully. "–isn't Jet-person. See?"

He watched her a moment and shook his head. "Not even a little bit."

Edward flopped down and crossed her legs beneath her, leaning on her head on one hand, a deep frown set on her frustrated face. Then she blinked, as if lightning had struck. She grinned. "You see, duplicate-person looks like Vash-person, but he isn't Vash-person. His chemistry is identical in every way, but he isn't Vash-person."

Jet set a hand on his forehead as the ominous explanation sunk in and he realized exactly what the girl was trying to say. His heart pounded intensely in his chest as the whole scenario played out in his mind, his imagination filling in the details.

If Radical Edward was right, Jet Black wasn't standing in a giant alien ship on a desert planet in the far reaches of space. Jet Black was safe and sound back home in his own world, probably laying back, relaxing on Venus and sipping on a Venusian ale as he searched for another big-time bounty. A million questions swirled in his mind, such as how the _Bebop_ had gotten here. The practical explanation was that it wasn't really the _Bebop_.

"Oh shit," Jet muttered. "You've got to be kidding me! Ed, tell me aren't serious!"

"Edward is dead serious, Jet-person. And the real Spike-person and Faye-Faye aren't here either." Ed set Tomato on top of the Millennium Arc computer. Immediately she started wiring the laptop to the mainframe. "Splice and dice, the network! Snip, snap, open, shut, meet Edward-duplicate!"

"You've got to be kidding me," Jet murmured, and collapsed into the nearest chair. "Please God, tell me your kidding me."

Before another word could be said, a light flashed in the middle of the room. Jet spun at the movement and froze when he saw a woman in white, long flowing black hair cascading in delicate waves over her shoulders, all the way to her midriff. He blinked, trying to figure out where the woman had come from. She spoke then, her voice as clear and confident as any voice he had ever heard. "I'm afraid I'm not God, but I can assure you, what your friend has just discovered is true." Jet rose to his feet and peered at the woman as she slowly approached him. "In a sense."

Bewildered, Jet's mouth hung open. "In a sense?" he asked, livid. "Who the hell are you? What the _hell_ is going on here?"

The woman eyed him, a small smile playing on full, red lips. "The plants launched this ship two thousand years ago." She watched her feet as Ein approached her, cautiously sniffing the heel of her shoe. Jet wanted to reach out and stop the dog, but he didn't. The young woman watched as the dog's nose touched her. Her skin flickered, the color fading briefly, and rippling about. The realization made Jet's skin run cold: she was a hologram! The girl gave him a long look and continued. "In the sense of time, the ship is two thousand years old, yet it left the dock two hundred years into your future."

Jet didn't think he had the strength to demand what was going on and _then_ have her fill in all the blanks, so he decided to play along. "So we're looking at a two thousand year-old artifact that hasn't even been built yet?" he asked. The woman nodded. He rubbed the bald patch on the top of his head. "Jeez. That's a mind-bender."

The young woman gave him a pleasant smile. Jet took a moment to notice just how strikingly beautiful the girl was, a delicate yet simple beauty. She stood about five and a half feet tall, slender woman with long, raven hair and a peaceful smile. Her dark eyes held a spark of intelligence, ignited in her patient smile. She seemed to be very pale all around, though he couldn't get the best of looks at her with the dim light of the chamber. Being she was a hologram, he doubted there was much more beyond the looks and possibly a computer-based memory.

She took a step forward. "The men that arrived here ahead of you are seeking conquest, Jet Black. It has been a headlong race between my people and the scientist known to this world as Doctor Jebidiah Quinn to board this ship. Unfortunately, it is a race we are not winning. We have been searching for Paradise since we came here on Project SEEDS 131 years ago, though the safety of this compound has never been threatened until within the last week."

Jet frowned. "You're trying to keep Quinn's people off this ship, right?"

She nodded. "It must be done. There is a man here who can accomplish that, though he is in one of our stasis chambers."

"Vash duplicate-person!" Ed shouted, jumping up to her feet. Jet flinched himself, having forgotten she was so near. The woman looked to Edward and gave her a little nod. "Edward knows where he is. We can find him."

"Then let's do it," Jet said.

The woman nodded. "You must."

"All right," he said quietly, eyeing her. "But when we get back, you have a hell of a lot of questions to answer for me."

"Very well, Jet Black." She smiled, turning to his companion. "And Radical Edward?"

"Ed is Edward but holo-person can call Edward Ed." She gave her a big, toothy grin.

The woman smiled, giving Jet a sidelong glance, but he didn't say anything. She shook her head with a small, amused smile. "Ed then. A pleasure to meet you, child," she said softly. "My name is Rem. Thank you for bringing life back to me."

Edward offered her a toothy grin. "It's good to meet you, Rem."

From behind, there was a clamor of metal. The woman turned her head instantly to searched for the intruder, but she didn't seem to see anyone. After a moment she turned back to Jet. "You must hurry. I don't think you have much time, but there is definitely much to do." With that, the woman stiffened, the color draining from her features. In that moment, she shimmered and vanished before his eyes as the hologram deactivated. Edward quickly unhooked Tomato from the gateship mainframe and darted out the door with Ein at her heels.

Jet scratched his head, cursing to himself, and rushed off after them.

* * *

"Mr. Stryker?"

"Yeah, Milly?"

"I'm sorry."

The plant-spawn turned his eyes toward her voice, but she was just beyond his view. Slowly he wet his lips; he was so damn dry. Water was a delicacy their captors apparently couldn't spare. He could understand the pain his friend must be going through. If he was human he'd probably be having his own problems right now. He was sore enough as it was. In this position, he hadn't been able to move more than a fraction of an inch since he'd regained consciousness.

He was grateful to hear her voice. The poor girl hadn't said a word for hours. She'd probably been asleep, but if so, she cried a lot in her sleep.

He actually smiled, despite their disposition. "Don't be. It's not your fault."

There was another long silence.

"But I am sorry," she mumbled.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't gotten a crazy idea," Stryker said. "If anyone is to blame, it's me."

Milly's voice cracked as she broke out into fresh tears. "It's my fault. I only held you back. We wouldn't be here–"

"Stop it, Milly. Please. There's nothing you could've done. Besides, before we fell into Dodge's trap, I was actually having fun."

"Fun? You mean, you enjoyed acting like Vash?"

He smiled again at the curiosity in Milly's voice. "Well, the truth is, I enjoyed having your company."

"Oh, but Mr. Stryker, we were just doing–"

"It was more than a job. We were doing our friend a favor. Vash needs us."

Milly was silent before she swallowed gently. "I don't think we can do him much good in here. We have to find a way out."

The smile faded from Stryker's face, replaced by a look of contemplation. "I don't think we're going to get out of here that easily, Milly."

"Well, we have to try, for Vash and Meryl."

"Yeah. You're right."

"Of course I'm right, Mr. Stryker."

"Sean."

There was another brief hesitation in her voice. "What was that, Mr. Stryker?"

"My name's Sean," he replied. He wiggled his fingers inside the casket, looking about the room for some sign that would inspire him to escape against impossible odds. Hell, Vash the Stampede apparently did this kind of thing all the time. Why not Stryker? "Please, call me Sean. Hearing my best friend call me Mr. Stryker just drives me nuts."

"Okay Mr. Stry…uh…" The girl actually giggled. "Sean."

He smiled and found he could actually move his left hand a little further than he could only a moment ago. His fingers skimmed the cold hull of the titanium casket. It was smooth, but he couldn't find any way to put a use to his latest discovery.

No sense in telling Milly bad news. He tried his right arm, found he could do the same motion, but once again there was no use for it.

_Damnit._

"Sean?"

"Yeah Milly?"

She giggled again. "I've had fun, too."

He smiled. The girl really could make him smile at the most unlikely times. He wondered what his smile must look like. He hadn't seen himself smile in so long. But then again, maybe he had. He shared Vash's face, and Vash smiled often. It was just something he was unaccustomed to. Before he'd met Vash and the girls, he simply hadn't smiled a great deal. After all, what use did a gun-slinging crime fighter really have for smiling?

"Sometimes you have to find out that you're not really human to actually become more human," Stryker said. "I mean, Vash is the most human person I have ever met."

"Yeah, I know."

He drew a deep breath. "Milly?"

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to tell you, if–"

He stopped in mid-sentence as the heavy blast door of the cell slid open. He blinked as the brighter light of the hallway beyond spilled into the room and bathed him in its comforting glow. Standing in the doorway, he saw the silhouettes of three.

A man, a child, and a small dog.

The latter came forward and instantly started sniffing at the large casket where Stryker was being held. In that moment, he barked once and backed up, jumping about, almost as if he was panicked.

"Sean Ryker?"

He responded to the man with a slow nod.

"The name's Jet Black."

He drew a slow breath and approached, disappearing beyond his field of vision to the left side, toward Milly. In a quick instant he heard the sound of twine snapping. After a moment of rustling, he heard his friend speak: "Oh, thank you so much! But why are you helping us?"

"Because you need help," the man replied.

Stryker saw her face for only a moment as she approached his titanium casket. Milly's arm came up and he heard her tapping in the keycode to the device.

The door latches groaned in protest as they were released, and the door swung open. Stryker felt his arms being released, and put them up to pushed the cover wide so that he could slip out into the cell. He blinked in surprise that she'd figured out the combination to the casket so quickly. _How in the hell–?_ The five of them stood there, Stryker watching Meryl for several moments before shifting his gaze to the man and teenage girl had come to rescue them. Apparently.

"Hello, Vash-duplicate!" the girl said, holding out her hand. "It is an honor to meet you, Duplicate-person! I am Edward-duplicate!"

Stryker scratched the back of his head, uncertain of what to say. He decided to say nothing at the moment, shaking her hand quickly before he turned to the show on the road. After all, they didn't want to be standing around out here when Starks returned from whatever the hell he was doing.

The man offered Milly a shoulder to lean on, which she gladly accepted. Meantime, Stryker headed over to the table that held his weapons.

Luckily, Vash's silver magnum was still there.

He grabbed the weapon, checked to see that it was still loaded, and slipped it into his holster. "Let's get out of here," he said, and led the group toward the door.


	49. Chapter Forty Three

FORTY-THREE: confrontation

It seemed an eternity passed as the two men stared one another down. For Vash the Stampede, the longer he held the other's attention without a being forced into a shootout meant that he had that many more extra moments to identify any weakness and use that to his advantage, to the better end for both individuals. He didn't really want to be lured into a battle with anyone, especially with the bigger battle yet to come, against Morgante and Quinn and the devastating army of plant-spawn clones they had developed.

Vash just couldn't see a weakness. His opponent was set perfectly for battle, his legs set apart and slightly bent, peering down the sight of the Cross Punisher II. The weapon was poised for easy discharge. From the looks of the man holding Wolfwood's weapons, he wasn't prone to mistakes.

"You're not quite the man I pictured, Vash the Stampede," the man said slowly. "I expected a trigger-happy lunatic with a lack of patience."

Vash nodded slowly at that. Yeah, he had to admit that this man across from him acted like a pro. He was as patient a gunman as Vash had seen in some time, waiting for the right moment to strike. It was something Vash seldom saw from the Gung-Ho Guns.

He said nothing. A slight smile touched his lips.

This confrontation could be interesting, to say the least. Very few men had the patience to outlast as skilled an individual as Vash the Stampede.

He knew when that moment did come, when the two were thrust into combat, that it would be difficult to avoid injury of any kind, whether for himself or his opponent. Despite his patience, his friends needed his help; he didn't have all day to clash with some unknown when Quinn's army was still nowhere to be found.

"I'll give you an opportunity," Vash said finally, lifting his arms so the man could see his weapons were no longer aimed in his direction. "Lay down your arms. This fight doesn't have to have anything to do with you."

"The way I see it, it's just you and me," the man replied, his smirk growing. "I really don't see anyone else."

"Don't you have any idea what I can do to you?"

"Not really. That never really bothered me."

Vash frowned. "You're sure what you're doing is really worth it?"

"I really don't know who the hell you are, but you have to have hurt a hell of a lot of people to get a sixty billion double-dollar bounty placed on your head." Vash heard a soft click as his newest opponent released the safety of the Cross Punisher II; the end opened to reveal the weapon's barrel. "Somebody has to take you down."

"How very noble of you."

"Not really." A cold smirk grew over the bounty hunter's mouth. "I'm not exactly the hero type. I'm here for the money."

Vash nodded. "If that's how you want it…" He lowered his weapons and took aim once again at his opponent. The other bent his knees a little more, seemingly unaffected by the weight of the Cross Punisher. Vash narrowed his eyes as the opponent started to squeeze the trigger. He darted left as the first bullet rushed past his left ear. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. Vash pounced, taking aim with the Angel Arm magnum. "Let's just be sure you really earn it!"

Spike had never seen anyone so fast. Not even Vicious was as fast as his newest opponent. The biggest difference was, if this man really wanted to kill him, Spike would be dead five times over before he hit the ground, despite the fact that he had been the first to fire a shot.

This man, Vash the Stampede, didn't seem like the kind of man who would have such a huge bounty placed on his head. He actually fought to _keep _his opponent from suffering an injury. Upon his first pounce, without firing a shot, Vash actually flipped over Spike and swept his legs out from under him with a sweep of his right arm. Typically Spike would have been able to avoid such a maneuver—if an opponent could really pull off such a maneuver at all—but with the heavy Cross Punisher set over his right shoulder, there was really no getting out of the way. The bounty hunter toppled over and landed on his backside as the heavy weapon dropped to the ground.

The black-clad bounty was up again in an instant, pushing the cross away with his foot and putting away his weapons as he turned to face him. Spike leapt to his feet as well, taking a defensive posture, his hands up like a confident boxer waiting for a heavyweight champion to make a mistake. Vash gave him a look. "You've got to be kidding me."

"We'll see!" Spike said, and threw a punch.

Vash effortlessly slid to one side and watched the fist fly by. A second punch followed. Vash took a step back and avoided the blow just as easily as the first. Several more punches were thrown, and Spike soon realized that his opponent was simply too fast for such a tactic.

"I think we're really earning your money now," the bounty said, a friendly smile glued to his face.

"Maybe you should hold still a second and find out." Spike continued to dance about like a boxer, and then he struck one last time. Vash almost yawned, as if he were actually bored. With ease, he grabbed Spike's wrist and flipped him head-over-heels so that he landed squarely onto his back.

He stared up at the sky for a moment, trying to figure out what he'd done wrong. "Damnit. That's supposed to be my style."

Vash shrugged. "Sorry. You're really not giving me much of a choice."

Spike grunted and slipped a fresh cigarette into his mouth, watching the blue sky as he lit the smoke. "Guess not." Pushing himself to his feet, he once more turned to face Vash.

"You don't give up easily, do you?"

"Guess I'm pretty stubborn," Spike replied, once more taking up that same posture. "Let's go. You first."

Vash grinned. "That's okay. I'll let you lead."

"Hmmm. You must be pretty stubborn yourself."

"Guess so."

And so, once more Spike struck, and Vash dodged.

* * *

Quinn rose from the driver's seat of his truck and walked the remaining ten paces to join Morgante the Warhead and his four men. There was a look of unexpected fury in the old man's eyes as he trudged past the team. "Ariel's dead," he explained heatedly as he made past them to the entrance of the Millennium Arc, where Henry Starks was fretting over his latest failure. Quinn could barely contain his anger as he shot a look up to Morgante and approached his young partner. "Report," he demanded.

Starks lowered his eyes. "They are somewhere within the Millennium Arc. Our men still have them surrounded."

Quinn's brow twitched in irritation. "And just how did my high-priced men let them slip out of their sight so easily?"

"We were distracted by three intruders. Bounty hunters." Starks shrugged, barely able to keep contact with his boss' eyes. "One was sent to face Vash the Stampede. The other two found the Alpha Sample and the girl. They're staked out somewhere on the inside. I have a crew working on locating and capturing them."

"You see, Starks, that's not the most efficient way of holding captives," Quinn said. "When we take captives"—he pulled out his silver Colt .45 and turned it on his former best man—"we hold them." Starks' eyes widened and he started to turn away. Before he could get more than a half step away from Quinn, a gunshot echoed across the desert and a bullet lodged in the man's brain. Starks fell to the earth, dead before he hit the ground. Quinn turned, sliding his weapon back into its holster. Morgante's shoulders rose and fell as he heaved a heavy sigh. "Find them. I want them brought to me before dinner. I'm not in a pleasant mood. If something else goes wrong, I am not above disposing of the trouble maker myself."

The big man nodded his understanding and turned to face his four men. "You know what to do. Let's get this out of the way."

As the five of them disappeared into the Millennium Arc, Quinn returned to his truck and grabbed the CB. He took the mike and held the switch. "Dark Horse, this is Quinn. Do you read?"

For a moment, there was static, and then a response: "This is Dark Horse, reading loud and clear. Over."

"Dark Horse, you have new orders. It seems Vash the Stampede is making his way toward the Millennium Arc. Bring full forces this way and await orders. The gateship must be protected at all costs. Over."

There was static, more so than a moment before. Finally, the reply came: "Quinn, please clarify. Dark Horse is to alter course and proceed to Millennium Arc?"

Quinn smirked. "Roger that, Dark Horse. And keep your eyes opened for Vash the Stampede. Over and out."

He shut off the radio and put the mike back in place.

"All right, Mr. Vash. I don't know about you, but this is really getting interesting." He leaned back against his car and stared to the crystal clear blue sky and wiped a thick layer of sweat from his brow.

He reloaded his Colt .45 and headed back toward the Millennium Arc.

* * *

Vash was as smooth and precise as he had been in a long time, easily dodging Spike Spiegel's every attack. Soon, he could see that his opponent was getting a little winded, and so he adjusted to allow for a more sluggish defensive. Never once did he feel he was ever in any real danger, despite the determination he could plainly see in his opponent's face.

The wind whipped sand violently into the air, occasionally blurring the view of both Vash and the bounty hunter. Despite the tarnished visibility, the Humanoid Typhoon accepted each moment of the battle with the patience due to him, using Spike's momentum against him on several occasions to send him spinning out of control.

In the back of his mind, he knew that Meryl and the others were in danger, that they would need him back at the Millennium Arc. The female plant-spawn would most likely be after the jeep. He didn't have time to fool around with a headstrong bounty hunter, yet he knew without a doubt this one was too skilled to simply ignore.

A year ago he had been fighting Knives to defend everyone, especially Knives.

Now he was defending everyone he cared for. He was defending Meryl and Milly, Stryker, and now even Faye Valentine and Bran the Toddler and Uri and the saviors of the Millennium Arc.

He had come to realize that the people of Gunsmoke had made their own decisions, and that he really couldn't be a part of that life in the way he had intended. He was no longer in the game for anyone but himself, and he could only be himself with his friends, and so this man across from him only stood in the way of that destiny.

"I'm running out of time," Vash said. "Don't you ever give up?"

The other was breathing heavily. "No reason to. Maybe you should."

"Sorry, I can't do that."

Spike wiped a thick layer of sweat from his forehead. "Then you know I can't either. I have something at stake too, and that's more than just my pride."

"There are lives at stake here," Vash said. "I don't know what you've heard, but I'm really not the criminal they make me out to be."

Spike rolled his eyes. "You think bounty hunters give a shit whether you're guilty or not? You really are a dumb ass. Like I said, I'm in this for the money. I'm not judge or jury. I turn in innocent people all the time. The trial's not in my hands."

"But you would be the executioner if I gave you the choice."

"If I have to. Jet always says shit happens."

"That's kind of hypocritical, isn't it?"

"Hey, it's equal opportunity. You have a chance to turn yourself in."

Vash narrowed his eyes hatefully. "The people of this world have already decided. If I turn myself in, I'd have no chance for a fair trial."

Spike rubbed his hands together, realizing there would be no easy end to this situation. Vash was prepared to fight to the bitter end, and the bounty hunter seemed to understand that he couldn't really win. The Humanoid Typhoon narrowed his eyes and let his hidden machine gun slide clear of the chamber within the wrist of his prosthetic left arm. He took aim.

"I don't want to have to do this."

Spike narrowed his eyes. "Okay then. Let's alter the playing field." He spun away rushing toward the gorge where the jeep had fallen. Vash turned his eyes wide as he watched the man fall over the ledge and out of view. He heard a soft metallic click over the soft breeze of the afternoon.

Something round and small rolled to a stop at his feet.

Blinking, Vash tried to understand what he was seeing.

When his eyes widened in realization, it was almost too late.

* * *

Spike hit the ground and rolled onto his back, ripping two handguns from beneath his jacket and taking aim skyward, toward the ledge, just as his grenade exploded and sent a wave of sand and smoke barreling skyward, over the gorge. Immediately, a thin smile stretching across his face, the bounty hunter rose and started to brush himself off.

At that moment, someone slapped him on the shoulder. "Wow, that really was a daring move. Someone really could have been hurt. I'm glad to see you're okay."

Spike spun around, dumbfounded. "You? But how–"

Vash grinned and shook his finger. "Now now! I can't go around giving away trade secrets, can I?"

"But wha…how… You can't do that!"

Vash shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Spike brought his guns up and started firing close-range. With a cry of surprise Vash darted away, leaping this way and that to avoid each bullet. What Spike realized in that moment was just what the bounty had to do to avoid every shot. It was incredible; Spike could see his eyes following the gun barrel and predicting the path of each bullet with pinpoint accuracy. It was something he had seen people do a few times before using drugs, but this wasn't a man that seemed to be doped up in any way. Somehow, Spike understood the man was naturally skilled.

The problem was, he didn't act like it. He screamed out like a little girl, desperately trying to avoid each passing bullet. For the life of him, Spike couldn't figure the man out. One moment he was as cool as any gunman he had ever seen, and the next he had become no more than a bona fide chicken-shit. It was almost amazing to watch, had he not known that the man had sixty billion on his head.

It just wasn't right.

The biggest question of them all: Why didn't the man simply fight back? No doubt he had the talent and the firepower, but he was too busy dodging attacks to even pull out his weapons, save the first few moments that Spike had determined was no more than a scare tactic, trying to convince him not to go after the huge bounty.

There was no way this man could possibly be an outlaw. He was way too timid. How anyone could think to offer such a large sum as a reward for his capture or death was beyond Spike Spiegel.

After all, Spike was not so timid with his weapons. He'd done some despicable things in his day, yet no one had ever thought to put such a price on his head.

No, this just wasn't right at all.

But it was all still money, and Spike needed money.

He held up both handguns and darted forward, unleashing a fresh volley of gunfire into the still air of the gorge.

In an instant, he lost Vash again. Somehow, the man, who had only a moment ago been right in front of him, simply vanished.

Two gunshots echoed across the desert, violently striking his guns and knocking them clear of his grip. Spike cursed in surprise as he started to shake the pain from his hands, and then froze when he realized what was happening. "Look out below!" Vash screamed as he barreled down toward the bounty hunter. But Spike knew the instant he saw him falling that there would be no avoiding the inevitable, and the Humanoid Typhoon crashed down on him, leaving them in an unceremonious heap at the bottom of the gorge.

"Oh, geez. You okay?"

Spike was aghast. "Get off me!"

"I'm real sorry, ya know. I think I got some dirt in my eye. It was a little tough to see where I was go–"

"Get off!" Spike screamed, giving his opponent an angry shove.

Vash grimaced. "Sorry."


	50. Chapter Forty Four

FORTY-FOUR: likewise

Faye Valentine jumped out of the jeep even before Meryl had started to slow down. She gawked in amazement up to the great dome that dominated the skyline. She was freaked out, something that was a little out of character, but that didn't mean she wasn't ready to face whatever dangers stood in her path. Slowly, she pulled her weapon free and switched the safety off.

Behind her, Meryl started to pull pieces of what could only be a weapon from a box in the back of the jeep. As she started to assemble the thing, Faye grabbed Bran's binoculars and peered down to the base of the dome. Her eyes narrowed instantly as she saw several vehicles at what could only be the buildings entrance.

Around the building were several men. Most were younger, perhaps in their twenties and thirties, but one in particular stood out. An old man, slightly hunched over. "Son of a bitch! It's that old fucker!"

Meryl rose, her weapon slung over her shoulder, and came down to ground to meet her new friend. "What do you mean?"

Faye handed Meryl the binoculars, blinking when she noticed that Meryl was armed with a rifle equipped with a powerful scope. "There's six of them. The old fucker is the one who was in charge back in that old city I told you about."

Meryl peered down toward the base where Faye was pointing and shook her head. "That's the one? I'd bet my life savings that's Jed Quinn."

"Probably. So, what next?"

Meryl sighed. "I don't know."

"We can't just sit here."

"And we don't have the slightest clue where to go. We have to sit tight and wait for Vash." She slipped the gun from her shoulder. For a moment, she peered down the sight, checking to be sure that she weapon was properly assembled, and inserted the magazine, containing five rounds. Then she took a loose round, pulled back the bolt to load the last bullet, and slid it back into place. Laying low so to be sure not to be spotted, Meryl peered to the sight through the scope, ten times more powerful than the binoculars Faye had offered her. She took a moment to investigate each individual face. None she recognized, of course, but there were six of them, as Faye had said.

The old one was most likely Dr. Jed Quinn. She didn't think it could be anyone else. Four of the others ranged from their lower twenties or lower thirties. The fifth man was a little older, probably in his fifties. She almost anticipated catching a glimpse of her father, but he would have been much bigger than these goons. Physically, he was taller and brawnier than even Vash, rivaling but not matching the bulk of Bran the Toddler.

Meryl breathed a silent thank you to the deceased for helping her to get to this point. Glancing to Faye, who was right next to her, checking her own sidearm to see that she was ready for the inevitable, Meryl held out her hand.

Faye gave her a confused look, but didn't say anything.

"We're about to get our butts blown away," Meryl explained. "I just thought it would be a good idea that we were introduced properly before we die."

The other smiled and accepted her hand.

"Faye Valentine."

"Meryl Stryfe. It's a pleasure to have made your acquaintance."

"Likewise."

Meryl peered through her scope once more, her smile never withering.

* * *

Quinn was growing impatient, and when Quinn grew impatient, it typically meant that someone was about to die. His most trusted men, who had each just recently gained higher standing with the departure of Henry Starks, were at the top of his list. Men like Merrick Quicksilver and Kane the Nighthawk would now have to step up and take his place, or share his fate. Somehow, they each took their new positions in stride, never once acting as though they felt that their lives were at all in danger. Perhaps they were more concerned with victory than their own existence, and somehow that made perfect sense to Quinn. After all, these men had served Knives.

Because of Knives, they were men knew what it was like to serve impatient leaders such as Jed Quinn. It was one of the few positive qualities Quinn believed had actually aided Knives during his attempt at domination.

But that alone was not enough. Quinn added the human element that Knives had attempted to eradicate. Quinn added the passion that Knives had lacked. It was that passion that had convinced Morgante the Warhead to join him in his quest of domination. Of course, in any such excursion, failure was not an option. It was for that reason that men like Henry Starks and Jon Thomas and all the other failures that disgraced the whole of the operation had to die.

"Kane?"

The Gung-Ho Gun was at Quinn's side in an instant. "Sir?"

"I want you to rendevous with Dark Horse take command of the cavalry. Send half of your forces to surround the gorge to our north. I don't want Vash the Stampede have a escape route to the north."

Kane nodded, indicating that he understood the order. "Sir, he is on his way to the Millennium Arc. He has no intentions of returning north."

Quinn was well aware of that fact, but he listened intently to the younger man. "Yes. I appreciate your thoroughness, but you needn't worry. I intend to take all precautions. Vash evaded the Gung-Ho Guns in the past. He will not evade me."

Kane nodded again. "Yessir."

Quinn actually smirked as the gunman turned toward his duty. He called for one of the other Gung-Ho Guns to join him, and the two of them climbed onto motorcycles and were quickly on their way. For a moment the old man watched as a trail of exhaust and sand was lifted in their wake, and they soon disappeared into the backdrop.

In that moment, he heard a young man trudge out of the entrance of the Millennium Arc and sink to his knees as he gasped heavily, desperate to catch his breath. Merrick leaned forward to hear the boy's report.

With a nod, Merrick turned his attention to his leader.

"Quinn, we have them."

* * *

Jet struggled to regain his breath as the massive warrior known as Morgante the Warhead pounded relentless at his back with the flat of his hand, each blow racing down his spine and somehow cutting off the signal from his brain that would have urged him to run. Instead, his legs simply shuddered beneath him. He yearned to fall, but he couldn't. Not with the bastard's other powerful hand holding him in place.

He felt so useless, so…expendable.

Milly stood defeated, arms tied behind her back as another of the brutes her shoulders painfully. Jet felt sorry that he couldn't help her, but at least he could take the punishment. For them, it was at least worth it. Why should they suffer when he was willing and able to accept the pain on their behalf?

It sounded ridiculous, especially coming from his own thoughts, but Jet willingly accepted defeat in spite of it all.

"You should have remained in the command chamber," Morgante said. "It is your own fault." He kicked the side of Jet's knee brutally, forcing him from his feet. "Now just sit there and maybe I'll decide on a painless end."

"How could you do this!" Milly demanded. "It's just not right! You aren't human!"

Morgante turned his mechanical eye toward her.

She bit her lower lip fighting back tears.

"I never claimed to be human." He glanced to the fallen plant-spawn in the corner. He had to smile. It had been such an easy task. He lay there, unmoving, lost to them. All too easy.

"Stryker," Milly whispered, turning her gaze from him.

_Poor bastard,_ Jet thought. He didn't know what had happened, but whatever the man had done, it had rendered Stryker helpless. He could hear the arrogant smirk on the brute's face as he spoke again. "Oh, he'll live." Jet fumed at the voice, but he said nothing. "This one is too important to Quinn's plans. If I were you, I would be crying for your precious Vash."

"You can't beat him!" Milly shouted defiantly, but she was silenced a moment later when her captor slammed the butt of his rifle into her stomach. With a soft whimper, the big girl slid to her knees. Jet offered her a sympathetic gaze, but he didn't dare speak. In the silence, Morgante gloated over his victory. Three down. Just one more would solidify a new victory. Quinn would be grateful for the salvaging this little crisis. Laying a boot to the side of Jet's head, the big man pushed him to his knees.

Soon, the moment was broken by the sound of footsteps rushing up to them. Someone entered the room, though Jet dared not look up to see who had joined them. "Morgante, I…there's a little problem." A boy. No older than twenty. Jet was pretty sure of it.

"Well? The child?"

He heard a soft swallow. The kid was nervous. "She, uh, she's disappeared. I can't find her anywhere."

Morgante was quiet for a moment. With a shake of his head he drew his sidearm and took aim. Jet flinched as a gunshot echoed through the corridor and heard the thud of a body crashing to the floor next to him. Morgante spit on the corpse. "Fucking kid."

Jet cringed.

These bastard killed their own allies faster than they killed their enemies.

Jesus, that was a scary thought.

* * *

"I don't get you," Spike muttered as he rubbed his soar shoulder. He was breathing harder now than he had been a moment ago. Sweat trickled down his brow and stung his eyes, but he didn't dare take his gaze off of Vash the Stampede. His opponent hadn't even broken a sweat, and that was cause for alarm, though he didn't risk panic. Not yet.

"Me neither. Care to go another round?"

Spike gawked. "Already? Christ, give me a second, will ya?"

"I don't have all day. I've got important business to attend to."

"You don't expect me to fight short of breath, do you?"

"You're not short of breath. You're speaking just fine."

Spike glared. "All right. Fine." He took aim again, emptying three quick rounds at the man in black. Just like before, he dodged them all, actually coming closer than he had been a moment before. "Sonuva… Hold still, will ya?"

"I'm just trying to make this competitive."

"You call this competitive!"

Vash smirked. "Let me guess. You're the kind of guy who's used to getting his way."

"All the time."

"Okay, okay. Just a second then."

"Huh?" Spike lowered his weapon. Vash reached inside his jacket and pulled out a strip of cloth. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making it more competitive." He quickly tied the cloth over his eyes.

Spike watched him, incredulous. This guy was a bigger fool than he thought, and damned arrogant to. Arrogant, or suicidal. Maybe a little both.

Or maybe, he realized, something more. Vash the Stampede was the most feared man on the planet. There had to be some truth as to the rumor, no matter how vague. The bounty hunter rubbed the back of his head, watching Vash with wide eyes. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Go ahead and let off a few rounds. I can't see ya, I promise."

"You're an idiot!"

"That's what people tell me, and I still can't figure it out. Go ahead, squeeze off a few."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Spike muttered under his breath, and pressed the release next to the trigger so that the empty magazine would fall to the ground. He reloaded and lifted his sidearm. In a matter of six seconds, he squeezed off four rounds.

His eyes widened when he realized that Vash had done it again.

Suddenly the man stood right in front of him, too close for him to fire another shot. Grinning like a fool, Vash lifted his hand and flicked Spike right between the eyes. The bounty hunter stumbled back and actually dropped his gun, grabbing his nose. "You arrogant little prick!" He glared at Vash and mumbled a few choice words. The Humanoid Typhoon's brow rose, impressed at Spike's vocabulary, as he slipped off the blindfold. "How the hell do you do that!"

Vash frowned, leaning forward. Suddenly there was the fire of the devil in his eyes, and the true Humanoid Typhoon burst free, the man who could topple entire cities in a matter of seconds. "You can't beat me. I can't allow you to beat me. Now if you don't step aside and let me get to where I need to go…" He lifted his prosthetic hand and the hidden gun slid out of the chamber in his wrist. He set the barrel loosely against Spike throat. "It's gonna get ugly."

Spike's instincts were triggered instantly. He knew this was no mere threat. It was a promise. This was a man who certainly kept his promises.

The bounty hunter closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"There are men there after you," he said. "I don't know what kind of a man you are, but I'm pretty sure the bastards waiting for you aren't saints."

"I know who they are," Vash hissed. He wasn't about to let his guard down now. "I'm prepared for them."

"They want you dead. They could care less about the sixty billion. Why?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not exactly the man from the poster. In a lot of ways, I'm so much more dangerous than that."

Spike smirked. "I think I believe you." The machine gun cold metal pressed more tightly into his throat. He held fast and brave, never taking his eyes from Vash.

"You have a choice to make."

The bounty hunter realized he still had his gun in his right hand. He held it firmly, but didn't lift it. If he did, he knew he was a dead man. Vash's eyes narrowed, staring coldly into his own. A warning, he realized, that time was running out.

Spike made his decision.


	51. Chapter Forty Five

FORTY-FIVE: command center

Meryl peered down the sight of the rifle, through the scope that revealed to her the ground before the Millennium Arc. Cold sweat trickled down her temple, dripped onto the stock of the weapon, and then fell to the desert floor. Fear pulsed through her with each beat of racing heart. The crowd of men had gathered there, at the doorway of the massive structure. The old one—Meryl had come to think of him as Quinn, even though she didn't really have any hard evidence that was his identity—stalked slowly about as the others watched him, waiting. There had been six when they arrived; now there were nine, and every so often another emerged from the compound. Sometimes one would return when one emerged. She didn't any faces.

"Something's going on," she said quietly.

Faye nodded slowly. She was kneeling beside the smaller woman, watching through the fieldglasses she had rummaged up from the jeep. "What do you think they're doing?" she asked softly.

Meryl shrugged. "Not a clue," she whispered back. The men were a good distance away, and too distracted at the moment to be searching the desert about them for possible spies. She wished she could read lips, or that she had Vash's hyper-sensitive hearing. She immediately reprimanded herself for wishing for the impossible. Right now, Vash was busy.

The fact that he hadn't yet found his way back to them scared the shit out of her. He had departed to fight the blonde plant-spawn that had attacked them several miles back. Dark fears lingered in her heart at the realization that she was the same plant that had nearly killed Vash back before they had arrived at New Hope. Then, Vash hadn't been able to escape on his own.

_God, please bring him back to me,_ Meryl pleaded, looking briefly up to the heavens before shifting her gaze back through the sight screen. She thought by all rights that she should hear her heart pounding, that being in this position should be a discomfort, unnatural. But Meryl knew why her heart was beating at a normal pace, why her breath was slow and even, her rifle stable in her grasp. By all rights, the image through the scope should have been bouncing madly before her eyes, but she found that she could pinpoint a single, large mole just below the left eye of the old man.

She knew if she squeezed the trigger, she could get to within a few millimeters of that mole. If she was aiming to kill. Right now, she wasn't ready to kill. Still, she thought that perhaps she shouldn't feel quite so comfortable.

Her father had given her a rifle to train with when she was young. Her protection, he'd called it. The world was a cruel place, and if she was to take a step out into the darkness of it, where chaos reigned, she'd have to know a thing or two about self-preservation.

_A rifle, Richard? Christ, whatever happened to a simple can of mace?_

Meryl smiled a little at the memory of her incredulous mother, standing in the doorway of her bedroom, staringat her little birthday girl. Most girls got a nice dress and maybe some jewelry for Sweet Sixteen. Meryl had gotten a high-powered rifle, complete with ammunition and scope, the best that money could buy. And all for the sake of 'protection,' her father had insisted.

It wasn't enough that he screw up the lives of his family. Even now it seemed all he could offer to her was another way to kill people. She wondered about the key around her throat. Was that just another elaborate way of killing people that she just hadn't figured out yet?

Hard to say. Still, she knew she had to find out. That key held all the secrets in it, the truth of the whole of her troubles, all wrapped up in a small piece of metal.

_It holds the key to the entire world in it._ What had her father been trying to tell her?

"Oh shit."

Meryl shot a look at Faye to see that she had turned her attention out to the desert, away from the dome. There she could see the patch of land swarming with darkness. Men, she realized, all dressed in black. From this distance, it was impossible to see anything more than that. What she knew, however, was that there were too many people out there to be any less that her worst fear.

Quinn's genetically enhanced army was on the way.

It wouldn't be long now.

Now her heart did race. Violently. She lowered her rifle and swallowed, trying to catch her breath. What next? She knew she could take out Quinn, but what of the consequences? There were just two of them, without Vash, and the Gung-Ho Guns were plentiful.

That, and their army was closing in on the location. The last thing she wanted to do was tip thousands of Vash-like clones to her location for the sake of a single gunshot. And that was if they were lucky enough to avoid the Gung-Ho Guns on the other end. Her father was out there somewhere, too, and that was reason enough to scare her half to death.

A familiar click sounded behind her head. Meryl froze. She knew the sound well, heard it every time she pulled back the bolt of her rifle. She turned her gaze to meet Faye's, and saw the same wide-eyed fear in her green eyes.

"All right, kiddies. Stand up." There was a smirk behind the voice. The shadow of their captor loomed over her but she couldn't see the man, only knew that she was caught. Wasn't that enough, that simple realization? Meryl trembled at the harsh, hateful sound of it. "And no monkey business."

* * *

She longed to break down and cry, to fall to the desert floor and sob her eyes out. There was no surrendering to that desire now. The heated warning of the big Gung-Ho Gun—Eric the Watchman, he called himself, in his upper fifties, silver hair and a snow-white mustache—held her to her feet as he brought her before the others of his group. Her cape was draped over the big man's right shoulder, including all of her derringers—save one, she thought, though she didn't dare risk even a glance to her boots at that moment, for fear the Gung-Ho Guns would see the movement. He held the stock of both rifles in his grip, with the barrel of each weapon planted firmly in the shoulder blades of his captives as he pushed them along.

By the glow in the old fart's eyes as they approached, Meryl knew that he'd been waiting for this moment. He stood there, hands clasped behind his lanky, almost fragile form, as he held his gaze on both women. His grin grew, sinister, lacking any semblance of compassion.

_This_ was the man her father had given away his life for? Meryl fumed, her fists clenched.

"Ah, Eric. It seems to me that you are the only member of your team whose worth proves more than face value." Quinn strolled up to each women, peering them each in the eye. "The daughter of a dear friend," he said quietly, glaring at Meryl. "I'm sure you would be grateful to know that his price for service has been payed in full."

Meryl glared. "Go fuck yourself," she hissed.

The old man blinked and grinned. "A feisty one," he said quietly. "You remind me of the man your father once was." He moved on, focusing his nasty smile on Faye. "And good old Lucy." He traced the length of her inner thigh with the cold barrel of his pistol, his face close to her torso, and brought it to a stop at her crotch. "My old friend. Does it still burn, hot pants?" Hot breath sprayed on her cheek through his gritted teeth. "If it doesn't now, it will later, I assure you."

He didn't wait for her answer. Instead he turned from the girls to their captor. "Any word from the bounty hunter?"

"No sign yet," Eric replied.

"No need to worry about Vash, Miss Stryfe," Quinn said cheerfully. "He'll turn up soon enough. Either dead, or to die. One way or the other."

Meryl couldn't take her hateful stare off of him. Rage raced through her thoughts and took the place of rational thought. She spit in his face.

A grim smile remained etched on his face as Quinn reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He peered darkly up to the Watchman. "Take our guests down to the control room. We'll be ready to move soon."

Eric nodded and gave each of the girls a shove with the rifles. Faye shot him a dirty look after stumbling forward a step, but she knew better than to grumble about her disposition. Her fear had evaporated, becoming nothing less than pure, unadulterated hate. She glared with teeth clenched and waited for an opening. Meryl was proud. The girl was undoubtedly strong.

They headed toward the giant dome. The Millennium Arc, Vash had told her. Meryl gawked up at the massive structure as they approached. Eric wasn't in the mood to slow the pace, so nudged her forcibly with the barrel of her own weapon.

"Move, missy," he grumbled.

* * *

So this was the command center. Meryl stared about with wide eyes at the immense room, filled from wall to wall and floor to ceiling with equipment that she had neither the ability nor the desire to comprehend. The only problem was that nothing appeared to be working. Meryl wondered what the point was. There didn't even seem to be any power here. Vash had said the Millennium Arc didn't operate by normal means, that nothing he knew had ever been able to activate the power of the command center of the ship. What was Quinn planning on doing with it?

Quinn moved about the room with wide eyes, eager to move on. The moment of truth was near. He rubbed his hands together as he approached what could only be the primary viewscreen. Eric forced the girls into a pair of chairs off to the side and had one of the younger Gung-Ho Guns tied their wrists behind their back.

"Leave us," Quinn said gently. "And send for Morgante and the otherprisoners." For a moment, Meryl wondered who he was talking about. All of the Gung-Ho Guns, save the one who had captured her and Faye, slipped quietly from the room. Meantime, Quinn lowered himself into the big chair that rested before the viewer.

Eric eyed Meryl and Faye somberly before he strode quickly over to join his boss. Meryl watched him walk away, and shared a quick, worried glance with her new friend.

"What's going on?" the bounty hunter whispered.

"I don't know," she whispered back.

"Silence," Quinn said, swiveling in his chair to glare at the girls. "You will know it all in due time." He glanced down to the armrests of his chair, smiling in turn to each of them. "Miss Valentine?" Faye blinked up at him in surprise. "That's right, Faye. I know who you are. You might think it bizarre that I could possibly know. What's even more bizarre to me, though…is how you came to be here. How you came to walk amongst us here on Gunsmoke. You shouldn't be here, you know."

"Christ, you bet I know," Faye grumbled.

Quinn smirked and turned from her. He reached down and picked something up off the floor. He lay whatever it was across his lap. Faye blinked in surprise and shot a look to Meryl. She looked back and shrugged. "What is it?"

"It's Ed's laptop!" she whispered. "Ed's here!"

"Your friends are all here," Quinn said, swiveling back to them, but only briefly this time. He turned back to the screen. "Well, all but the young man. He's preoccupied at the moment. I'm afraid he won't be joining us any time soon."

He stared up to the viewscreen. A dark smile crept across his features as he typed in a series of commands. The girl was brilliant, he realized. She'd done something no human he had hired had ever been able to do. Only two others had accessed the Millennium Arc, and they were not human. His smile turned briefly to Faye.

"This Ed of yours. She's quite brilliant."

Faye glared, but she held her tongue.

"Quite brilliant indeed." He stopped typing, and looked up. All around him, the lights of the command center started to flicker on. The room, once dark and ominous, quickly came to life with blinding, white illumination. Quinn sat back, watching his world, the world he had so often longed for, his hope for a future of his own domination, roared into existence. "Welcome, friends, to the Millennium Arc, the true calling of Paradise!"

Meryl shared a look with Faye. She looked dumbfounded; Meryl couldn't blame her. She felt the same way.

Quinn set the laptop aside and rose then to his feet.

"Computer, activate Rem Saverem Holographic Sequence."

Meryl's heart stopped.

The image of a woman shimmered into existence, standing in the center of the vast room. She interlocked her fingers at her narrow waistline, staring off into nothingness. Then, as if she had suddenly stirred to life, the hologram blinked and looked slowly about. "Edward?" she asked. "You've summoned me?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Saverem," Quinn replied, strolling slowly over to the image before him. "The dear child's gone missing. I have my best people searching for her."

Rem's arms fell limp to her sides as she stared. "Quinn."

"Yes, Rem. Quinn." He came to peer to her face-to-face. Meryl trembled in that instant. They were identical height, though Quinn was made a tad shorter, as age had caused a troublesome stoop in his stature. "I am so touched you remember me."

"How could I forget you, Jed? You were the one who stole Alex from me."

_Alex?_ Meryl wondered. Her mind raced, wondering if Vash had ever mentioned that name to her before. She didn't think so, but she thought that maybe he had mentioned that Rem had loved somebody, and that his passing had forged her destiny, had led her to Project SEEDS and the stars respectively, and eventually to Vash and Knives and, ultimately, her death. Her blood had begun to curdle. Rem _knew_ Jed. But that would make him older than Vash. How could that be?

"Rem, the time of Gunsmoke is at an end. You know this world was a failure from day one. And those creatures are the ones that ended it. I need you to deactivate the safehold so that I can take the Millennium Arc away from this heinous place."

"You seek power," Rem said quietly. "The people here seek only life. To take the Millennium Arc from them now would only lead to death."

"Wrong, my dear. I seek knowledge."

"At the price of lives, you seek knowledge that will only strengthen yourself. You seek power." Rem peered away. "That I cannot allow."

In that moment, the door to the command center hissed open and five figures slid into the room. Meryl shot a look out of the corner of her eye and spotted Milly amongst the crowd. Her heart began to race. She was standing, and she looked unharmed, but exhausted. With her were two people she didn't recognize, and a tall plant-spawn in Vash's red trenchcoat. Stryker, she realized. There were also two men, one a prisoner and the other his captor.

He was the only one whose arms were clasped in front of him. Rings of titanium had clasped his hands to his elbows, where he couldn't cause any harm. She wondered if it was enough, but then again, seeing the man behind him, taller and brawnier than any human being she'd ever seen, his body partially replaced by cybernetic implants, she understood why they didn't seem quite so worried about Stryker's presence.

Her father planted a boot into Stryker's back, forcing him to his knees, and then onto the floor. Meryl's stiffened. Tears welled up in her wide eyes as they shimmered up to Richard Stryfe, known as Morgante the Warhead to the Gung-Ho Guns.

"Ah, the Alpha Sample," Quinn said. "And do you have the weapon?"

Morgante strode toward his boss. He didn't so much as glance in Meryl's direction. He slid the silver weapon from the holster at his hip and handed it slowly to the old man. Their was a glimmer of jubilant excitement in his eyes. The holographic image of Rem stood silent, staring quietly at the weapon as Quinn slipped it slowly into his hand, caressing it gently.

"And the key?" he said.

"He didn't have the key," Morgante said slowly. "He never did."

Quinn smiled. "Oh?"

Morgante nodded slowly. "You think Knives would trust the Alpha Sample with it? There was another reason that he chose me. He wanted to keep the key close to Vash, where he could keep an eye on it. He asked me to deal with it, so I did."

Quinn cocked his head. "Full of surprises, aren't you, Mr. Stryfe? And where did you leave the key, then?"

Morgante turned then and fixed his stare on his daughter.

The realization struck Meryl like a thunderclap. Her heart began to pound. Morgante was on her in three, long strides. He loomed over to her, wrapping a powerful fist about the cross at her neck, and ripped the chain free.

He turned then and strode from her, and held it out to the old man.

Quinn grinned. "Brilliant."

He took the key and turned away. Rem watched as he approached the main viewer. Everyone sat breathless as he loomed over the console there and slowly stroked the key with his fingertips. Meryl realized in that moment her father had indeed given her the key with just this moment in mind. He had led her, in his own way, to Bernardelli and Milly, and in turn to Vash, to their grand adventure, and eventually to their destiny.

It seemed destiny would not be smiling this day.

Her heart ached. Where was Vash? She feared she knew, feared that he had somehow fallen before he could complete his task.

Now, Meryl was alone.

The old man peered over to her. "Watch now, as I seal our fate."

Quinn leaned forward to place the key into the console, though she couldn't see exactly where he intended to put it. Before he could, the console lit up and the screen flashed red. "Incoming transmission," Rem said in a monotone voice, approaching Quinn. The old man's eyes flashed in anger at the sudden intrusion.

"Well?" he demanded.

"On primary viewscreen," she replied. In that moment, the image of the desert appeared. Meryl's heart fluttered again. Thousands of plant-spawn had lined up just outside the Millennium Arc. They were waiting.

Quinn smiled. "God truly smiles down on me. It is almost done."

Meryl blinked. "What's that?"

He shot her a look, and then peered closer at the viewscreen.

"Nicholas!" Milly's voice cried out over the solemn silence. Meryl wasn't so sure, but someone was making his way through the crowd of clones. Not a clone. He was distinguished by a thick head of dark hair and a cross that he carried over his right shoulder. Soon, he pressed his way closer to the camera. His physical features grew more recognizable. It was the man who had been with Faye on the SEEDS ship Vash had destroyed. He was accompanied by one of the plant-spawn clones. The clone held a white bundle in his arms.

"It's Spike!" Faye started, her eyes wide.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Spike reached up to his mouth to pluck a nearly-finished cigarette from his lips and flicked it away. He then lifted the Cross Punisher from his shoulder and set it aside. He quickly took bundle from the clone and unwrapped the white cloth. He grabbed the contents and held it up before the camera. Meryl cried out in agony.

It was a head, battered and bloody.

A pair of lifeless green eyes watched back.


	52. Chapter Forty Six

FORTY-SIX: resurgence

The heartache she could handle. It was the understanding that the end was approaching and there was but one way to combat finality. There could only be one end now, and that would mean the death of everyone onboard the Millennium Arc.

But what could Meryl, one small and seemingly helpless young woman, do in Vash's name to save them all from the torturous end that Quinn intended of everyone she knew?

She trembled in her chair, staring at those lifeless eyes, praying that it wasn't true, wishing it was just some horrible dream that she could just open her eyes in the end and find him lying next to her back at New Hope. Her heart told her otherwise, that this was all too real and that the terror of her life, the loss of her dearest friend, the only lover she had ever known. She wished her heart would stop then and there and take her from this world in blissful, merciful death.

But she couldn't die now.

His words returned to her in a rush, and she knew her plight, her destiny. _That means that we might have to trust each other to protect ourselves. One false move can be devastating. If a soldier turns to help a fallen comrade on the battlefield, most likely he will end up just as dead as his friend._ Heart pounding, she peered over to Faye Valentine. Her eyes were wide with shock, just as Meryl's were. Terrible, powerful sobs raged from the lungs of Milly, behind her. So much tragedy; the big girl couldn't handle it all at once. Meryl thought it was a miracle she herself hadn't fainted from the shock.

Then again, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had feared something like this would happen. The female plant-spawn—the "pure born," as Vash had called her—had butchered him. This Wolfwood impersonator…what did _he_ have to do with all this?

Something else Vash had told her about rang true: _When I gunned down my impostor, he was wearing this coat, and he had my Angel Arm magnum. I don't know when they got it, but they would have had to have taken it from the place where I fought Knives last year. It means they must also have Wolfwood's Cross Punisher. If I know the Gung-Ho Guns, they'll try to use it against us._

Meryl thought with grim irony that Vash had proven equally prophetic in his death than he had been in his life.

Standing at the primary viewscreen, a very shocked and very disturbed Jebidiah Quinn spun toward his partner. Morgante watched back with equal shock quickening his heart. "Send him in," the scientist said, still shaking. "I would very much like to meet this man."

It seemed things were not exactly going as planned.

* * *

Spike peered quietly over to his silent sentry as he touched the little device hooked to his ear. After a moment, the plant-spawn let go of the comm-link and peered back, frowning. "We're being asked inside." 

The bounty hunter frowned back. "That a good thing?"

"Hard telling. Could be he never expected anyone to actually succeed, and now he's not sure what he wants to do next. Could be he's just stunned and wants to shake the hand of the man who proved Vash the Stampede is no more than a mortal man." The plant-spawn grinned, peering through the black visor that covered his eyes. He adjusted the devise, starting off toward the Millennium Arc. "Remember, be careful. And watch what you say. This is a guy who would just as soon kill his friends then risk anything going wrong."

Spike smirked. "Yeah, well I'm an awful lot like Vash the Stampede myself," he said, turning an amused eye to his escort. "I'm one tough sonuva bitch to kill."

* * *

Edward laughed her fool head off, not for the first time that day. Her eyes locked on the viewscreen in main engineering to the handsome young face peering back. A man, similar to Vash, she thought, handsome with hazel eyes and platinum-blond hair. There was a small smile on his lips as he studied her. 

"So you are Edward. Rem said I might have the opportunity to meet you."

Edward grinned. "Your ship is amazing. Edward's never seen anything like it!"

His smile widened. "Nor had I, when I first encountered her. The Millennium Arc is unique. No one has ever seen anything like it, nor are we likely to see anything like it again."

"It's a gateship!" Ed giggled at her discovery, bouncing up and down in her chair.

Her new friend chuckled. "Ah, very perceptive. And, dear Edward, can you tell me what it is that a gateship is used for?"

A wide-eyed Edward leaned forward. She kept her voice low, as if she was afraid someone might be listening in on their conversation. "Teleportation."

"Very good. You understand then how you and your friends found your way to our world." It was not a question, and he didn't wait for a response. "I first activated the Arc over a hundred twenty years ago, when I discovered her. I sought understanding beyond what I already knew. Back then, I couldn't comprehend the significance of the knowledge. I knew only that the Arc could connect with its point of origin instantaneously with its activation. Within the last year, I have spent a great deal of time studying the Arc, coming to understand the potential of a gateship."

A fool grin spread across the girl's face. "_You _brought _Bebop _to Gunsmoke!"

He slowly shook his head. "No, that was Rem. The hologram you spoke to in the command center is the visual representation of the ship's artificial intelligence. When I activated her, I gave her the name of a human who had ." He held his arms out and shrugged. "I hope you find her helpful. I was the one who designed her. I used someone who was very important to me during my childhood, a young woman that I have since forgotten. In the past year, I came to know her again, used her wisdom to help guide me to my own salvation." He gazed cryptically at Edward, his smile evaporating slowly as he sighed. "Without Rem, I would never have been able to accept my fate."

Edward smiled. "What fate is that?"

Millions Knives, twin brother of one Vash the Stampede, held out his hands and gestured to the darkness in the screen about him. Edward leaned forward, eyes shimmering with anticipation. "'Until you realize there must be room in this world for all of us, you have to understand there will be no room in it for you.' My brother's final words to me, before he left me here to think of the consequences of my actions." He leaned forward. "Now it is time for me to make amends for those actions. Edward, I will need your help, if you will trust me."

The girl grinned ear-to-ear. "Edward will most definitely help!"

* * *

Spike Spiegel shot his escort a look as the door between him and the command center slid open. He grit his teeth as he peered about. There, he saw Jet and Faye, surrounded by technology that he could scarcely believed. His friends were both being heavily guarded by a pair of Gung-Ho Guns. Vash's friends were also there, all three, the big and small girls, and his duplicate. Spike bit his lower lip and strode into the room. No one spoke a word, as though everyone knew that this was a moment in which no one could speak until spoken to. Spike turned his eyes slowly to the old man in the center of the room. Next to him stood a woman he didn't recognize. 

For a brief moment, his escort froze. He stood stiffly just beyond the door before giving Spike a shove with the butt of his rifle. "Move," he said in a flat voice.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Spiegel is it?" Quinn started toward him. "Congratulations, young man! You have no idea how troublesome that Vash the Stampede has been to my business."

"I think I could guess," Spike grumbled as they met halfway. Quinn thrust a hand out to him, and for a moment, Spike simply stared. Then he reached out and shook it. His eyes drifted briefly to the young woman behind the man. He nodded to her.

The girl smiled. "Welcome to the Millennium Arc, Mr. Spiegel. Though I believe this is not your first visit."

"It's our first meeting, Miss…?"

"Saverem," she replied. "Rem Saverem. I am a holographic representation of the last surviving crew member of Project SEEDS."

Spike arched a brow. "Interesting," he said quietly, and fixed a look on Quinn. "Just tell me something. Where do I turn in the remains to collect the bounty?"

"There is no collecting, Mr. Spiegel," Quinn replied. "Gunsmoke is dead. The money will soon be worthless."

Spike thrust his hands into his pockets. "That what a gateship's for?"

Quinn smirked. "In a way." He lay a hand on the bounty hunter's shoulder and led him over toward the main viewscreen. Spike went without protest, glancing back to see that Jet and Faye had both fixed him with angry stares. He shrugged in their direction and looked up to the viewscreen. "This is a resurgence, my friend. Nearly two centuries ago, we of Project SEEDS dreamed of a whole new world meant for mankind to regain the greatness that God intended of such a race. We were doomed to failure because of two vile creatures unlike the world has ever seen, no more than bloodthirsty vermin that sought to bring an end to the dream that was Project SEEDS."

"That's a Goddamn lie!" Meryl's voice cut through the air like an explosion. All eyes shifted suddenly over to her. A firm hand gripped her shoulder, her father's hand. A warning to stay silent. He didn't hurt her, but she turned her angry glare up to him. "Get your filthy hands off of me!"

"Meryl," Morgante warned, his flesh and blood eye narrowing only slightly.

"Oh, it's all right, old friend. I understand the hate in her heart. I would expect no less of the young woman." He eyed Spike and winked. "About two thousand years ago, the Millennium Arc crash-landed here on this very world. Its crew, however, was born almost two hundred years into our future. This crew was not human. They were very much like Vash the Stampede. Plant-born humanoids from this very world, spawned from the very plants that bring life to this world."

Spike gave him a look. "Wait a second. Are you telling me that this ship was built by race of creatures like that?" He thrust an angry finger toward the viewscreen, to the army of clones that waited just outside the Millennium Arc.

"That, my boy, is _precisely_ what I am saying."

"And what exactly is it you plan to do now that you have control of it?"

"The answer is Gunsmoke," Quinn said cryptically. "What we have to do is rid ourselves of the plant-spawn that threaten our very humanity. I am taking us to the past, where we will use this army to annihilate our enemy." He held up the cross, hanging from the broken chain that Morgante had torn from Meryl's neck. Slowly, he strode over to the console. His fingers slid over the port where the key was to be inserted. A smile stretched across his face. "The time of redemption is upon us," he whispered, and pressed the key into the port and turned it ninety degrees counterclockwise.

In that moment, the lights in the command center faded. Then, from the center of the room, next to where the Rem hologram stood, a brilliant flash of red light filled the room. Something hissed as a pressure valve was released. A three foot diameter section of the floor slid open. Silence swept through the room. Everyone watched, wide-eyed, as a man emerged from the floor on a platform. A tall man, six feet six inches, with short-cropped platinum-blond hair and a smirk with the devil's confidence ground into his features, hands clasped behind his back, a figure with a prestigious personality.

"Ah. It has been a long time, hasn't it, Jed?"

The doctor stumbled back against the console beneath the main viewscreen, eyes wide. "No…it can't be!"

"Oh, it can, and it is," Knives said, almost gently, as he started slowly toward the old man, arms still clasped behind his back as he drew ever closer to his enemy. "You really are a sly old dog, aren't you, Jed? Think you could shy away from Legato and draw one of his most reliable soldiers right along with you?"

Quinn slid his gaze to Morgante. The massive soldier stood there, glaring. His harsh gaze was not set on Knives, but Jed. Realization sunk in, and he looked slowly back to Knives.

"But Bane killed you…"

"You think I'm a fool?" Knives said, grinning deviously. "Jed, I surrendered my freedom to the outside, but in here, I am still king." He held his arms out. "The man your clone destroyed was a plant-spawn. He was also just a clone, just as the man who killed him."

Spike gawked. "Can somebody please tell me what the hell is going on here?"

"It is a fight for the future, a battle for the resurgence of life," Knives said darkly. "Much as my dear old friend just revealed to you. It is an opportunity for myself to right the wrongs that I have done to the people of this dismal world. It is a simple truth. Until I'd realized there must be room in this world for all of us, I had to understand there would be no room in it for me."

Meryl felt herself gasp at his words, words she knew had been Vash's last to his brother in this world. Her heart pounded in her chest, nearly forcing the very air from her fragile lungs. She shook furiously as she stared up at Knives. Her hands balled into small fists as she fought against the tears that threatened to consume her.

Knives eyed her, bowing his head with a sly smile. He turned away from her. "I have come to understand that as simple truth. It is my destiny. Isn't that right–" He turned again, fixing his sights on the clone soldier who had escorted Spike into the room. "–Vash the Stampede?"

The clone stood there for a moment, fixing his emotionless gaze to Knives. All eyes shifted suddenly to him. He broke into a huge grin and easily discarded the thin black visor set over his eyes. "You've got that right, Knives!"

"_Noooo!_"

Eyes wide with wild rage, Quinn made a dash for the viewscreen, but Spike had no intentions of letting him get very far. Spinning back to his right, he whipped his foot through the air, connecting the kick sharply, heel against Quinn's face. The man shot from his feet and crashed back onto the titanium floor of the command center.

As Morgante untied the ropes that bound Meryl Stryfe and Faye Valentine to their chairs, and Jet Black helped to ease Stryker off the ground, Vash closed the gap between him and his brother and threw his arms around him. Spike loomed silently over Quinn for a moment and shook his head, turning his attention to the girls. The moment Meryl was on her feet she charged Vash with what could only be a look of fury and threw a powerful fist into his face.

"Hey!" Vash shouted, holding his cheek for a moment before turning his attention down to her. "What the heck was that for!"

"That was for scaring the living hell out of me, Vash!" Meryl shouted. Then, her countenance softened. She reached up and cupped both of his cheeks in her hands, pulling him down to peer into his eyes. His hair was cropped short, like the rest of the clones, but looks didn't matter. What mattered was that here he was, alive and well, standing before her. That had been the disguise, and everyone had fallen for it. "And this…is because I love you." She kissed him tenderly there, in that moment. It was a long, slow, passionate kiss, and all that saw it knew there was no shame in the moment. The love held there between them was that pure. "So much," she whispered through the tears welling up in her eyes. Her fingers slid slowly through the short spikes of golden hair.

"Sly bastard," Stryker breathed as he inspected his predecessor with a smirk.

Vash grinned over to him before gently scooping Meryl up into his arms, turning her full circle before returning her to her feet. They parted slowly as Vash peered to his brother. "Knives, this is the woman I love…the woman I want to marry."

Knives peered down at her. A genuine smile, something she never would have thought possible from this man who had caused Vash so much pain for so long, softened his features. "Congratulations, Miss Stryfe. Your father has told me some wonderful things about you." Meryl peered to Morgante from the corner of her eye. She refused to part from Vash, and looking at Knives was hard enough. She simply nodded and buried herself deeper into her lover's embrace. Knives's smile was genuine. "If ever there was a human worthy of my brother, it would be you."

"If ever there was a man worthy of Meryl, it'd be Vash!" Milly replied, rushing over to bury her friends in one of her bone-crushing hugs. Meryl allowed her guard to slip, and smiled gently as she found herself warmed within her big friend's embrace as she and Vash still clung to one another.

"Good work, lunkhead," Faye said as she gave Spike a casual slap on the shoulder. She had worked her way over to her comrade, all the while watching the three friends and now, apparently, Vash the Stampede's brother. She flashed Spike a smile that told him how relieved she was that he was here, how relieved that he had figured out a way beyond creating a deathtrap. "For a second there I thought you'd gotten us the biggest bounty of all time. As worthless as that would've been."

Spike smirked over to her. "Yeah."

"Of course you know I would've had to tear your nuts off for hurting Vash, right?"

The bounty hunter gave his partner a sidelong glance. "Me hurt Vash? What dream did you just wake up from?"

"I don't know. Maybe I haven't yet."

Spike shot a look to Jet. "Where's Ed?"

Jet was standing stiffly, rubbing his soar shoulder as he stared back at his partner. By the blank expression on his face, Spike knew he didn't have an answer. Faye turned her eyes to the floor. There'd been a lot of death, and they both knew it. If Edward was nowhere to be found…

Neither had the courage to be the first to voice their fears. Thankfully, someone else spoke before their fears could be realized. "This is all well and good…" All eyes shifted toward Stryker as he turned slowly to the viewscreen. "But what the hell do we do about them?"

Knive's face twisted into a devious grin. "That's simple enough. When I created them, I added a built-in automated destruction sequence."

Vash spun to him. "What? You mean it's that simple? How do we activate it?"

"That part is not so simple," his brother replied, though his grin remained. He cast Vash a sidelong glance, hands clasped behind his back. "First, we'll need the Angel Arms."

Vash held up the gun. Knives's gun. His brother drew his gaze silently along the black steel. His grin widened. "You've kept it in pretty good shape."

"I think you should thank Sean for that. He's the one who fixed it."

Knives merely smiled as he reached for his weapon.

"And here is yours," Morgante said quietly as he handed the silver weapon over to Vash.


	53. Chapter Forty Seven

FORTY-SEVEN: access denied

"You sure this is the right thing to do?" Vash asked, peering across the archway, just on the inside of the sealed entrance. On the other side of the door, chaos waited. His brother held the hammer of his Angel Arm gun back and was in the process of slowly spinning the ammunition cylinder, staring at the keypad that controlled the blast door. After a moment, he shifted his gaze to Vash and flashed him a cunning smile. Behind them, their seven companions—Meryl, Milly, Sean, Jet, Spike, Faye, and Morgante—slid slowly into place.

"You guys keep your heads low," Vash muttered. He fixed his stare directly on Meryl. She watched him with a look of confidence, shifting her rifle from one shoulder to the other. He knew she wouldn't be so easily cast aside when his life was on the line. "This is something Knives and I have to do together, and the Angel Arms are by far the most dangerous tools on the planet. The blast is deadly. I'd feel better it you took cover in the Millennium Arc, but I don't think you're going to do that."

Meryl confirmed his suspicion with a sly smile. "Vash, shut up."

He smiled back and looked to Knives. "Let's get the show on the road."

Knives nodded slowly and reached out. Quickly, he punched in a series of numbers on the keypad. Vash watched, memorizing the numbers. His brother had changed the passcode, he realized. If Knives was worried that he might figure it out, he didn't say anything. He only turned a sly smirk in Vash's direction and held out his weapon.

Vash drew a slow breath and tapped the barrels together.

Knives hit the activation key.

They waited for what seemed an eternity for the door to slide open.

* * *

When Knives first sought the aid of the Gung Ho Guns twenty-five years ago, in the weeks before the incident at the city of July, there were three people of interest for him. The first, of course, was Legato Bluesummers. Legato was a quiet individual with a keen knack for deception, and an irrevocable lust for all things macabre. Lingering on the edge of suicidal madness, he eagerly accepted Knives offer of turmoil, bloodletting, and pain incarnate. Dangerous insanity. Legato proved even more useful homicidal than he did suicidal. He delivered the message to Vash like no one else could.

If Knives had enjoyed the company of anyone in this world after he and Vash had been separated all those years ago, it was Bluesummers. Legato served his purpose, believed in his purpose. That purpose was death, and he had been quite good when dealing it out. First, to his enemy, then to his comrades, and, in the end, as he had so boldly explained before turning from Knives for the final time and strolling out to his final confrontation with Vash the Stampede, to himself. Knives appreciated Legato's effort.

It was Legato's biggest companion, one of the original Gung-Ho Guns, who proved to be his strongest ally in the end. Morgante the Warhead—Richard Stryfe to his family and friends, who knew nothing of his allegiance to the feared criminal organization whose dark disdain spread like wildfire over a flammable countryside—was very much the brute as advertised. The only thing that Morgante held dearer to his heart than his duty to the Gung-Ho Guns was the daughter he had brought into this world. Once, near the end of the Gung-Ho Guns' clash with Vash the Stampede over a year ago, just before Legato had forced Vash to choose between Legato's life, and the life of his daughter and her very best friend, Morgante had turned on Knives, furious.

The girls were to be spared. Knives had promised him. For his aid, the girls had to be spared. Knives had told him not to worry, that Vash would come through. Legato would die, but not before Vash struggled to the bitter end with his own sanity.

Vash had to be punished for his weaknesses. There was no way around it.

Morgante had seemingly broken his ties with Knives then. No way he would allow Knives or Legato to toy, to gamble with his daughter's life in that manner. He went off to join Quinn in his foolish quest to usurp Knives, destroy the plant-spawn that had poisoned the world with their own vile blood, and, in turn, complete the very conquest Knives had once sought.

It was this betrayal that would lead to Knives's eventual downfall. Or at least, that was what Quinn had thought.

From the beginning, it had been Knives' intentions to make Gunsmoke into his own private paradise, a world he would share with his brother. Vash couldn't see beyond his own limitless compassion for the scourge of the lifeless rock that Rem herself had spared oh so long ago. His defeat a year ago meant Knives would honor Vash's dream to see life continue on. Humanity was rewarded a second chance that day in that tiny piece of paradise between the wasteland and sky.

Vash had earned that much in his victory. After all, victory led to an enemy far worse that Knives. Victory led to an enemy who hated Vash. Knives had never hated his brother. Quinn hated Vash. With Knives defeated and out of the way…

It was Quinn who had introduced Knives to Legato, to the Gung-Ho Guns in general. Knives and Quinn had encountered each other several times over the years prior to the events of July. Dr. Jebidiah Quinn was a hateful little bastard who hated the plant-spawn for destroying his dream of Project SEEDS. Knives in turn hated Quinn for the very humanity that he represented.

It was a match made in heaven—or, perhaps more accurately, spawned from hell—a fact Knives exploited many times over the years to turn the flow of events throughout Gunsmoke, as controlled by the Gung-Ho Guns, to his advantage. Quinn tried to do the same. Knives had always found that amusing because working toward opposite goals had actually taken them down the same terrible, bloodstained trail.

Knives breathed a slow sigh and held down the activation key on the keypad of the blast door. Nothing happened. The door remained shut; there wasn't even a sound—a clang of steel or something more, something else as blatantly obvious—to indicate that something wasn't operating as it was intended. He frowned deeply and peered across to his brother.

"What is it?" Vash asked.

Knives grimaced. "Damn it all," he said under his breath.

* * *

Meryl couldn't for the life of her understand exactly what had become of the horrible terrors that had only just begun to flood through her heart and soul that day Vash had returned to her. Next to her stood the man she had been led to believe was responsible for it all. Now the mystery seemed only to deepen as she came to realize that it hadn't at all been her father's desire to see the death of Vash the Stampede, and in turn give to her endless pain.

In her mind's eye, Richard Stryfe, or Morgante the Warhead, or whatever the hell his name was, was no more than the scourge of betrayal. He was no longer the father she had known. This man would just as soon turn on his allies, to pull a gun and fire a bullet into the heart of a friend, as take his own loving wife, or their cherished daughter, into his powerful embrace.

She wondered, what had the Gung-Ho Guns done to poison the heart that Richard's wife had grown to love, the man who had turned on his family? What was it that Morgante had received that had caused him to surrender his life? She hoped that, whatever it was, it brought him as much pain as it had caused for his family over the years.

Knives, after all, was a man who rewarded his followers with pain as if it were the greatest gift of all. Meryl prayed with all her heart that pain would stay with her father forever.

She eyed the man standing next to her, that towered over her, whose very flesh had been nearly wiped away in exchange for cybernetic implants. How many of them kept him alive, she wondered. Could he live without them? She wasn't so sure.

Standing at the archway that sealed them from the outside, and the army of Vash clones beyond, Vash shot a look to his brother. She heard Knives swear softly and shift his gaze back to Vash. "What is it?" Vash repeated, more forcibly the second time.

"The old fart changed the passcodes," Knives hissed under his breath. "I'm going to have to reroute the encryption through engineering."

Vash frowned. "Why?"

Knives gave him a look. "No time to explain. Just keep your mouth shut." He lifted something small and black to his lips. "Edward? Are you there?"

Meryl frowned. "Edward?"

Next to her, Faye stiffen, and then her shoulders sagged with relief.

"Where is she?" Jet demanded.

"If I had a guess," Stryker replied, fixing Knives with a meaningful look as he slowly folded his arms over his chest, "I'd have to say engineering."

A pretty reasonable guess, everyone agreed.

* * *

"Oooo-oo-oooo! Cooool!" Edward giggled, slender fingers flying over the control panel. Big bold letters flashed on the screen—ENCRYPTION COMMAND—followed by the text box, with a flashing cursor. She touched the earpiece, her fool grin stretching wider on her pale face. Her heart raced as spasms raced through her scrawny figure. "Oooo, Knives! I have the verification program!"

She frowned as the voice returned to her head. A soft voice, instructing her on what to do. Her frown deepened as he continued to speak to her through the comm-link. She twitched in her chin, cooing at the information. She stroked her fingers together before interlocking them to crack her knuckles, just as her fool's grin returned.

"Kay-kay, Knives!" She punched in a series of numbers and tapped the return key. The response came to her instantly: ACCESS DENIED. "Oh!" she moaned. "Passcode denied! What next, Knives?" She touched the earpiece, gazing up to the ceiling as she spun about in her chair, and then stiffened and gave the darkness a smart militaristic salute.

"Roger dodger! Edward will give it a go-go!"

* * *

Knives peered slowly over to his bother. "We have a problem."

Vash arched a brow. "Just one?"

"Morgante," Knives grumbled, turning to his employee. The big man stiffened when their eyes met. "Take a trip down to the command center and check on our guest."

The big man bowed his head. "On my way."

Knives waited for a moment. "And Morgante?" The big man paused. "Do be careful. Quinn really is a cunning old fart."

Vash was amazed at how quiet Meryl's father really was. He'd been a deputy in his past life, before turning the way of the Gung-Ho Guns. He was pretty skilled with a gun, too. With a nod, the big man vanished down the hall.

Stryker eyed Knives and turned off down the hall to follow. "I'm going with him," he called over his shoulder.

"We tied Quinn down pretty good," Vash said. "He must've changed the encryption before all this started."

Knives's hand shot out and latched to his brother's arm in a death grip. "Vash, before today, there were only three who knew the encryption code. Quinn believed me dead and never quite believed you were the threat you truly are. There were a great many things Quinn had on his plate before I made my appearance. Do you really think the security of the ship truly rated that high on his list of important things?"

"It would've to me," Vash grumbled.

"True, but Quinn was overconfident. And he had Morgante on his side. So he believed. No, I don't think establishing a new encryption was that important to him."

"What're you saying?" Meryl demanded. The two peered down to see that she had inched her way closer to the door. "That Quinn somehow got loose and changed the encryption just now?"

Knives looked to her. Vash watched her with the same troubled expression. Then they eyed on another. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Vash drew a slow breath. "And what about getting outside?"

"Edward knows what she is doing." Knives lifted his weapon. "It won't be long now."

* * *

"Ready the battering ram." Dark Horse stared directly ahead, eyes narrowed. All about him, the clones were going about their business, readying a massive, titanium for the job to come. The primary entrance to the Millennium Arc had been mysteriously deactivated. There was no getting in. At least, not yet. If he wanted to get in, he knew he would have to create his own entrance. With a devious smirk, Dark Horse held up a finger. "Engage."

* * *

"What's that sound?" Milly murmured as she leaned forward.

"I'm not sure," Vash replied, leaning his ear against the door. The deep rumbling only grew louder, and he could feel the vibrations raging through his bones. He shot a look at Knives. "Whaddaya think?"

"I think," Knives said, turning his head slightly in Vash's direction, "this is going to be fun."

The first thunderous thwack of the battering ram slamming into the blast door sent a jolt through Vash and sent him sprawled across the floor. Knives's eyes went wide as he watched his brother fight to regain his footing. Another loud bang echoed down the corridor.

"What the hell?" Vash murmured, trying to shake away the beginnings of a very serious headache.

"Battering ram," his brother replied.

Another loud crash was met by with metallic pop as the door bent violently inward in a direction the metal was clearly not meant to bend. Vash's eyes widened. He looked up to Meryl.

"Get out of here!"

Before another word could be said, a metal rod sharpened at the point sliced easily through the door, narrowly missing skewering Knives. The rod began to glow until it white hot. In that moment, the door began to melt quickly away.

In the opening, as it grew wide enough, a head appeared. One of the clones, a narrow shield of black metal over his eyes. As Vash watched with wide-eyed terror, the thing stuck the barrel of a weapon through the ruined blast door.

The thing's head erupted in a shower of blood and bone and brains, and then collapsed into the molten door frame. Vash shifted his gaze up over his shoulder to see Meryl, the butt of rifle her rifle rested firmly against her shoulder, a wisp of smoke floating from the barrel.

She lowered the weapon and held a hand out to Vash. He took it and came quickly to his feet.

As they turned back to the door, they saw Knives slip outside, magnum blazing in his gun hand. In his place, three clones filled the space, guns blazing. Vash's machine gun burst free and filled the air with hot lead. The clones were dropped in a matter of seconds. In their place, five more appeared. Vash's eyes widened as he came to realize what would happen if they tried to make their stand here. He grabbed Meryl by the shoulder and started pushing her down the hall. Jet and Spike looked in surprise at one another, and then took aim. Vash grabbed Spike's shoulder and gave him a shove. "Oh no you don't! These guys aren't like me! They aim to kill, no questions asked!"

Jet spun instantly, taking Vash's request. Spike only lowered the weapon briefly and gave Vash a look. Then he lifted it again and placed a bullet between one of the clone's eyes. With a wicked smirk, he spun and followed after Vash and Meryl.

"Where's Faye!" Spike shouted over the sound of gunfire.

A swarm of hate spilled into the Millennium Arc after them.

* * *

Edward gasped as she watched the monitors before her. Knives was on the outside, she saw, firing at random as he tried to position himself for the final onslaught. He was having a rough time of it, but somehow he was still on the loose. In another monitor, she saw Vash and Meryl and her friends, Spike and Jet, running off away from the oncoming clones as they rushed into the dark corridors of the Millennium Arc. In a third, the command center, just as the door hissed open and Stryker and Morgante raced into the room.

Edward frown as she caught sight of the length of rope in the center of the room, frayed on either end where it had been snapped in twine. She froze, and broke into a cold sweat. She swallowed, forcing herself to calm. Quinn had broken his binds. How that was possible didn't matter, only that he had done it. Maybe he'd had help…or maybe, Ed realized as she swallowed hard, he was more than he appeared.

She was breathing in quick, short gasps as she flipped through the security cameras that filled the screen. Her heart sank even deeper to realize, while she saw her friends and the dangers of the genetically enhanced army that had begun to fill the ship, she could not find Quinn.

Morgante's voice rushed into her earpiece: "_Hey, kid, any sign of the old man?_"

"Ed is looking," she snapped, her finger fidgeting as she continued to search the ship.

Morgante was silent a moment. "_Just watch your–_"

Whatever he was going to say didn't find her ear. Something cold and hard slammed into the side of her head, tossing her aside as if she were a sack of potatoes, the earpiece sent flying. Ed was unconscious before she hit the floor, not even given the time to see what what it was that hit her.

* * *

They were cutting it close, Vash knew. Bullets whizzed past him as he grabbed Meryl's shoulder, guiding her down the twisting corridors, no more than ten paces in front of their pursuers. Meryl didn't risk a glance back, nor did she question his judgment. Vash knew where he was, and she trusted him. Vash did look over his shoulder, occasionally firing off a shot. He had two bullets left. Spike was no longer behind them. They'd lost him five minutes before. He'd also chosen a different path then Jet and Milly, the only way he could think to get their pursuers off their back. He couldn't be certain his ploy had even worked.

Deeper they fled into the Millennium Arc, deeper into his sanctuary. Vash knew this place well. He and Knives had explored the entire gateship. He knew most of its secrets, both hidden corridors and long lost chambers. The hologram of Rem Saverem had been the one shock he hadn't anticipated, he couldn't have known. He learned a great many new things whenever he returned. This time, he feared there would be nothing left to learn. In the aftermath of this battle, there could only be the emptiness he had feared for so long.

Maybe he could shed the title Vash the Stampede, but he wouldn't get his hopes up.

Most likely, the Humanoid Typhoon was about to take the final leap toward his destiny.


	54. Chapter Forty Eight

FORTY-EIGHT: past life

"Have a seat, Miss Valentine," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Faye glared at the old man suspiciously, gun raised only slightly, poised to come back down to his face where she could pull the trigger and end his miserable life in a blink. Problem was, he stood over Edward. There was a round object in his hand, a grenade, she knew, and if she killed him he would drop it. She could probably get out before the thing blew, but there'd be no saving Ed. Her heart skipped a beat at the realization.

So she knew she couldn't shoot him.

"Come now, come now. Please sit down." Quinn smirked, arching his brow as he tilted his head. In the dim light of the room, he looked quite devilish.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather be standing," she growled through gritted teeth.

The old man eyed her and leaned against the console. "So be it. Rem?"

A light shimmered in the middle of the room. The holographic image from before appeared there. "Yes Jed?"

"Knives is becoming a more than a simple thorn in my side. I was under the impression he had been dealt with. I'm assuming you had a great deal to do with his impossible evasion of the inevitable."

Rem shrugged. "You might say that. He designed me several years ago, and stabilized me in the Millennium Arc database. He thought that one day, if he and Vash were to mend the bridge between their hearts, I might aid in the mending."

"He is a bright sonuva bitch, isn't he?"

Rem glanced over to Faye, who watched her, wide-eyed.

"More so than you know."

Quinn held his head high as he peered at her. "Why these bounty hunters, Rem? What is the purpose?"

Rem eyed him. "They're purpose is to provide Knives with the most efficient team possible in defending the Millennium Arc from your army of clones."

"Bullshit! There's a psychological jab in everything that bastard does, little lady. Don't you dare start quoting statistics!" He drew a slow breath, fixing Faye with a stare, before turning back to the hologram. "The question is, why?"

"It's Spike," Faye mumbled. "It has to be. Why else? Spike's the only one who can beat Vash, so he picked Spike."

"That's not exactly the psychological jab I was suggesting, princess," Quinn grumbled.

"What happened to Lucy the Liar?"

"You look more like a princess to me," the old man said, a genuine smile on his lips. "Now Rem, answer the question."

* * *

Vash held Meryl to his chest as he dropped down several decks, deeper into the Millennium Arc, and felt the jolt race up his spin as his feet connected with the titanium floor. He returned her to her feet. They eyed each other briefly.

"Where next?" she asked, brushing her hair from her face. At least when it was shorter, it hadn't gotten in her face so much. As much as Vash liked it longer, it certainly could be a pain in the ass. "They're still right behind us, aren't they?"

"It won't be long," he replied gently, trying to reassure her as he slipped his gaze to the darkness overhead. As of that moment, he couldn't see his clones. Still, he knew they weren't far behind. He wondered how that oath would hold true: with their victory, or their deaths. "This way," he said, pointing down the hall, making a conscious attempt to clear his mind of those fearful thoughts. "Renaissance room."

She eyed him quizzically. "Renaissance room?"

"You'll see. Let's just keep moving."

In that moment, clones started leaping over the railing toward them. Vash let out a yelp and grabbed her by the waist, making a beeline into the shadows of the corridor.

* * *

"Faye Valentine was chosen because of her past life," Rem said slowly. Faye's eyes shot up to her, wide, as her face paled. _Past life?_ Chosen for what? "Before the lunar gate explosion that crippled the Earth, and which eventually resulted indirectly to the establishment of Project SEEDS, Faye was known as Ashley Dawn Snyder. She was eighteen years old when she was placed in a cryogenic chamber."

Faye finally lowered herself into a chair, only dimly aware of the sound her gun made as it clattered to the floor.

"It was then that Project SEEDS was set in motion by Dr. Jebidiah Quinn and his business partner Alexander Snyder. Alex was Ashley's brother."

"Oh?" Quinn arched a brow, peering slowly over to Faye. He leaned over the console, fiddling with something, watching the monitor. "The plot thickens."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

He made sure that whatever he'd been doing was completed before turning back to face her. "Don't you understand? You and I are connected indirectly through Project SEEDS. I was its chief benefactor that set Project SEEDS in motion, and you were onboard the very ship for which Project SEEDS was greenlighted." Quinn leaned forward, smirking. "That is just delicious."

"Faye Valentine, you are the sister of the man Rem Saverem fell in love with. Maybe you've figured it out on your own, but Rem is the woman I was modeled after," Rem said gently, approaching. "Alex was killed before Project SEEDS left Earth, so Rem Saverem went in his stead. She never knew it was Quinn. Knives found out years after her death, because Quinn told him."

"Yeah, well Ashley Snyder is dead," Faye grumbled, staring at the floor. "She died a long time ago, too. My name's Faye Valentine."

"Knives brought you here because of your lineage, Ashley," Rem said gently. "Faye, if you would prefer."

Faye blinked. "And why is that?"

"Because only you can avenge your brother's death."

* * *

Vash guided Meryl into a vast room, dark and dreary. Only one light shone in the entire room, way in the back where the gateship's plant connected to was plugged into the computer mainframe. It reminded the plant-spawn of the light at the end of the tunnel, calling to him like an angel seeking his own retribution. He looked quickly about, confirming that they were alone, and touched a button on the wall. He took Meryl's arm as he ripped the Angel Arm magnum from it's holster.

"Get over to the plant," he said gently. "It's gonna get real crowded in here."

She drew a slow breath and took her rifle from her shoulder with a nod. She had already turned to run when he shot an arm out and took hold of her again. He spun her to him and kissed her, a long, slow passionate kiss that ignited his desires. When they parted, she touched his cheek and looked up to him.

"Get going."

She nodded, and then clutched his hand in one of hers. "Vash?"

"Yeah?"

"You'd better not go and die on me, you got that? You'd better not die."

He grinned and squeezed her hand. "Yes ma'am."

* * *

"They have him," Stryker said softly, peering to the viewscreen. Knives stood there, clearly in their vision, a golden light surrounding him. A beam from the ship, tractor beam most likely. The plant-spawn couldn't move. He'd dropped his Angel Arm magnum and stood stiffly, just waiting. "It was activated from main engineering."

Morgante growled. "Quinn."

"Yeah." Stryker's heart pounded in his ears as he glanced quickly up to the massive bulk of a man, the Gung-Ho Gun, that stood over him. "I've got to do something," the plant-spawn said. He rose to his full height. "Any ideas?"

"We have to trigger a trilithium burst," Morgante said quietly.

Stryker swallowed. "You mean the Angel Arms."

"It's the only way."

Stryker was a clone. He recalled Knives telling them of the "safety" trigger he'd planted in the cloned DNA. An auto-destruct sequence. By the look on Morgante's face, he knew what the plant was thinking. Stryker eyed the vast bridge. "Escape pods," he said under his breath. He started to turn, only to freeze as he came face to face with Milly Thompson, with Jet Black at her side.

She had an angry glint in her eyes as she watched back. "Excuse me?"

Stryker drew a slow breath. "I'm taking a little trip outside."

"To do what?"

"I have to finish this," he said, touching her shoulder. "Someone has to finish it."

Milly's lip quivered as she stared at him, fists clenched. His shoulders rose and fell as he sighed heavily, and touched her shoulder. "I have to go," he said gently, starting away from him. She stopped him, grabbing his wrist and spinning him toward her. "Milly!"

"I won't loose you!" she blubbered, looking up at him. "I lost Nick and I'm sure as hell not gonna loose you, too, Sean! I can't loose you!"

Stryker drew a slow breath and touched her shoulder, steadying her. She shoulders heaved with heavy sobs, and he gazed sympathetically into her eyes. "If I don't do this, we loose all of it."

* * *

The Renaissance room had already started to fill with clones. Vash stood in the center, standing at the ready, arms laying limp at his sides as he clutched his Angel Arm magnum in his right hand. He narrowed his eyes breathing deeply, slowly, waiting. He realized very quickly that there were only a handful of them. Just as well. What Vash intended for these men would take concentration.

They surged forward. A gunshot echoed through the room. The blast knocked one of the clones from his feet as his chest exploded on impact. The sound of the sound of the bolt of Meryl's rifle followed the near dead silence as the clones stared in shock at their fallen comrade. Then, they started after Vash again.

Another gunshot, another death. Meryl pulled the bolt back once more. The clones froze again. By the way the sound echoed in the massive chamber, Vash knew they were having difficulty figuring out where the gun was being fired from. But that was not the reason he'd chosen the Renaissance room to make their stand. Shrugging the tension easily from his shoulders, Vash closed his eyes.

_You out there?_ he thought, a sly smile touching his lips.

The plant's thoughts echoed in his head, as clear as if it had spoken to him directly: _As always, old friend. I didn't think you'd be coming home._

Vash smiled at the voice in his head. _I know you didn't. There was a long time I would've agreed with you. But now I'm home, aren't I? And, I brought that woman we used to talk about. Remember Meryl?_

There was a warmth, an affectionate feeling that he took as a telepathic embrace. _How could I forget? She was on your mind all the time, especially after you brought Knives back._

_Did Knives tell you how to trigger the auto-destruct in the clones?_

There was no hesitation in the answer. _Yes._

Vash smiled grimly. "I need your help," he said aloud as the clones began to surround him. A hand clutched his arm. He spun about and buried the muzzle into the soft flesh beneath the jaw of a nearby likeness. The hot spray of blood and bone and brains splattered his face as a bullet torched through his adversary's skull. Vash grit his teeth and gave a kick to rid himself of the corpse. The heat of the battle was on him.

A dozen more clones spilled mercilessly into the room, this time racing for him.

"The trilithium!" Vash bellowed up the plant, dormant to him in all but the voice in his head. Vash wondered what was taking so long.

_I…can't._

_What do you mean you can't?_ Vash turned this way and that, blasting away at the advancing clones. He was moving quickly. As he emptied his weapon, he unleash his machine gun and reloaded the magnum, holding the fresh spool of bullets in his teeth as he filled the air about him with hot lead. Occasionally he heard the blast of Meryl's rifle. The shots were coming quicker now, with determination. He hoped she wouldn't be found out.

And then it struck him. Meryl. She was why the plant hadn't unleashed the trilithium wave. If she struck now, Meryl would be caught in the wave of radiation. Vash was immune. He had been born of trilithium crystals as they merged human flesh and blood to the energy beings that powered Project SEEDS. He was immune to the radiation that a plant could emit. Meryl was not.

_I'm running out of ammo! Can you get her out of here?_

A sharp pain shot up his right arm. Vash let out a yelp; he had to strain to keep hold of the his magnum. Blood dribbled down his forearm and made his fingers slippery. Turning his anger on the culprit, Vash loosed another volley from his machine gun.

Another bullet struck him just below the right knee. He crumpled.

"Vash!" Meryl's voice was a sharp shriek that drew the attention of the clones. They identified the threat—the rifle set against her shoulder—and started toward her.


	55. Chapter Forty Nine

FORTY-NINE: radiation

Knives was immobilized. Stryker could see Vash's brother, still encased in shimmering, golden light, the magnum still clenched tightly at his side. Stryker had often wondered how it was that Vash the Stampede could knock over entire cities in little more than a few moments time. Since he'd come to know the true Vash, he realized that the truth of it was far more dangerous than the rumor, in many bizarre and fearful ways. Knives was as dangerous as his brother, yet the world about them knew nothing of the plant-spawn that were Knives and Vash.

They only knew the fiction, the bloodthirsty, womanizing, crack shot of an outlaw known simply as Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon. They knew nothing of Jed Quinn and his ruthless desire, a madman seeking vengeance on the hapless plant-spawn that his precious Project SEEDS in turn had created. Stryker didn't know for sure who had developed the plants, or where they had come from, but the truth was that they had been slaves to the desires of Project SEEDS, and Project SEEDS, at one time, anyway, had been headed by Dr. Jebidiah Quinn.

And so he knew the truth. It had been Quinn all along. He was grateful to know that Knives had been smart enough to create the automated destruction sequence. That would save them a hell of a lot of time. Might even make victory possible. But first, he had to get to the magnum. It was sheer genius to use the very element responsible for the creation of the plant-spawn to in turn destroy the clones. Obviously Knives had been determined to see to the end of the clones himself, especially if things went sour. Too bad Quinn had turned on him, though that had probably been the whole plan all along.

Stryker slipped his eight-shooter from the holster and punched a button in the side of the ejection bubble. The pod burst out of the side of the hull with a terrible rumble. All eyes shifted up from to the giant metal ball barreling toward the sand. The heavy pod slammed into the sand and continued to roll, smashing several clones in its wake. Stryker was glad that he was strapped in tight, safe from the violent roll as his world churned around him. For once, he was glad he hadn't had anything to eat for several days.

When the massive ball rolled to a stop in the soft sand, the hull burst apart, sending shards of metal in every direction. Some of it slammed into nearby clones, tearing away at them, even decapitating one. The world around the explosion was stained red as Stryker leapt skyward, over the debris and shocked clones.

He knew he hadn't a bullet to spare. He took aim at the source of the tractor beam that held Knives and started shooting.

* * *

Spike burst through the entry way of the Renaissance room and started shooting. The Cross Punisher ripped through the wall of clones in his path. He started running across the way, paving a path of blood and destruction to get to Vash. He didn't really understand how it was the clones didn't take him out, how it was that he mowed them down now and somehow felt as though he wasn't even being watched. He didn't complain, though. There was a job to do.

With clones falling all about him, he worked his way to Vash. His heart thundered in his chest as he peered to the glow of light from the ceiling above. _That's my shot. That's where it is._ He shifted his glare to the girl beneath the plant. "Get your head down!" he shouted. "It's about to get really hot in here!"

He shifted the Cross Punisher around with almost a flick of his wrist. It was heavy, but his determination outweighed the pressure set firmly on his shoulders. Peering down the sight, he stared up into the light.

"No, wait!" Vash shouted, reaching out.

Spike pulled the trigger.

* * *

Vash could see the rocket burst free of the barrel of the Cross Punisher, sending a shell with a thin tail of smoke racing toward the ceiling. With the flash of light that followed, Vash knew it was too late.

All about him, the army of clones froze in their tracks. They stared up through thin visors to the ray of light that flooded the room. For Vash, it brought a tingling and warm sensation, typically sending him into a calm state. The clones, he knew, would simply be poisoned by the trilithium radiation, just like the humans. He flashed a look of anger to Spike, wondering how long he would have before he would drop. The bounty hunter just stood there, limp, gazing up to the light.

_Meryl!_ He spun about and raced toward the plant. He had to get to her. He had to take her in his arms before the end. "Meryl!" he cried out in desperation.

Behind him, one of the clones wailed in agony. They had already started to drop. The sickening stench of burning flesh filled the room. From the corner of his eye he saw them, lying in heaps, writhing in pain. His eyes stung with the thick smog of death.

_Lock down this room right now!_ Vash thought up to the plant as he lay a hand on the railing and jumped up to the platform where he'd last seen Meryl. Fully expecting to find her there, struggling to breath, with her skin already bright red, he felt his feet connect with the floor and started looking about. "Meryl? Meryl!" He looked about, eyes wide. His heart thundered violently in his chest as he searched for her.

But Meryl was nowhere to be found.

He spun about and saw the squirming masses. Cries and shouts of agonies, men begging for the pain to stop, were the only sounds that met his ears. Somehow, he thought, somewhat uneasy, Spike remained upright. He was leaning against the Cross Punisher and staring up at the gaping hole in what had appeared to be a skylight. Vash knew that the light shield was there to hold back the radiation when the plant was operating. He peered quickly up to the plant. "Its over! I need you to shut off the radiation! Right now!"

The light within the tube of energy that held the plant flickered briefly, and began to fade.

In that instant, all the power in the Millennium Arc faded.

* * *

Stryker knew he hadn't hit the tractor beam. It was too heavily shielded for anything like that, especially considering he only had a few bullets. Just eight shots, in fact. Somehow, though, as he came crashing to his feet near Knives, the shimmering light of the tractor beam faded. The gun clattered to the desert floor, followed quickly by Knives.

Determination swept through Stryker as he stretched his fingers out toward the weapon.

* * *

Milly raced for the entrance, her legs and arms pumping wildly, vision blurred by the threat of tears. Behind her, Jet moved on, occasionally firing a bullet into the shadows. He didn't understand it, how all these men, the clones, had fallen, literally burned alive, as if their skin had festered and boiled through the heat of some unseen fire. The stink of burnt flesh stung his eyes. He focused on Milly to try to keep his mind off the carnage. He had to admire the girl's stamina, her determination, her courage despite all they had seen.

Maybe, he realized, she had seen much more in her life than was meant for a young woman her age, considering the company she had kept in the past. That seemed to make sense.

He noticed there were others, ordinary men, not the clones that had filled the halls before. Probably Gung-Ho Guns. They'd been caught up in whatever had killed the clones. One less thing to worry about, he decided. Though, he realized, whatever had killed those men didn't have quite the same effect as it had on the clones. These men had red skin, eyes bulging as if they had been choking to death. The clones just looked as though they had been cooked where they stood.

Whatever had happened to these men, no one had survived.

_

* * *

How does this thing work? Stryker looked about, feeling the eyes of thousands burning into him. They stood there, seemingly oblivious. He stared down at the weapon. He knew only that you could pull the pin that held it together, and that two plates would fall away to free the trilithium crystal. One of the Gung-Ho Guns had showed him that much. But it didn't tell him how he was to activate it. He peered about. Almost as if stirred from a silent dream, the clones started forward. They raised their weapons, setting their intent on him._

Time was running short. He was about to die. After that, who knew?

A foreign voice exploded into his thoughts. Knives's voice. _Show some dignity, Sean. There is a world of torment before you. End it now._

"I am not afraid of death," Stryker murmured, peering about, and then turning his attention to the Angel Arm magnum once more.

_Then show us all why death should be afraid of you._

Sean's breath caught in his throat. He brought the Angel Arm up, a sneer etched on his suddenly hardened features. He nodded, returning his thoughts to Knives: _If the price of what it takes to end this is life, then they can have mine._

"Now that's more like it." Stryker's fiery eyes shifted down to see Knives lying in the dirt, peering up at him.

Vash's brother brought his fingers up in that moment, just over his face. He flicked them once, creating a resounding snap. The magnum shifted weight in his hand as the pin popped out of place, sending the plates flying away from the gun chamber. Stryker's very life flashed before his eyes.

* * *

It was the pain of remembrance, ten-fold. Beginning with death. He floated alone in shimmering light, a light he had never known. Or did he? Perhaps it was something familiar, a recurring dream that lingered on the edge of eternity, just beyond his grasp.

_I am here for you, brother, though you will not remember me._

_He stood with the woman who had adopted him, in the entrance of their home, overlooking the small farm his foster father had erected from nothing more than a few seeds, sweat, and tears. Off in the distance, the village plant could be seen, visible from within the cracked bowels of a fallen starship._

_Alisa Ryker was a gentle woman, the first face he had seen in his new existence, the only existence in his memory. She clutched his hand with a proud smile as she showed him the world outside from the tiny room he had known, the room in which she had helped him to heal. He held her wrinkled hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that showed his appreciation. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently._

_"Welcome home, Sean," she whispered._

_He glanced at her. "Why Sean?" he asked quietly._

_

* * *

"I have to go. It's just something I have to do."_

_Tristan turned to him in that moment, a heavy frown on his face. "What was that, my son?"_

_"I'm leaving. I have to explore my purpose in this life. I can't do that sitting around out here in the middle of nowhere."_

_No more than that. Tristan simply nodded and took his son's hand, a tear drizzling down his cheek. In the coming seconds, Sean learned the truth of something his foster parents had tried to instill in him since his first days with them, when he was conscious but bedridden._

_"Patience is a virtue, Sean. Remember that. Take with you the love your mother and I have for you, and understand that love will never die, but it will grow in you always. There is so much good in your heart. It's one of the first things I noticed about you the day you woke up."_

_Sean didn't respond. He simply stood there and watched had been walking through town to meet Marian at the bank. He stimply continued on down the dusty street toward the bank where his foster parents had left the money they had found on him when he had come into their lives._

* * *

Tears poured mercilessly into his eyes. Sean had loved the Rykers so much, and he knew they had known. It didn't take the pain away.

A thousand questions spilled into his thoughts, and then evaporated an instant later as a different pain, the thundering pain of his heart exploding through his right arm. White hot pain blinded him as he threw his head back and howled in agony. His arm had ruptured, and light spilled through him as flesh mended with metal. The Angel Arm burst forth, and Sean lost all control, all sense of self. There was only mind-numbingly violent pain.

Gunsmoke shook with a vengeance.

* * *

"A jettison tube," Vash murmured, new hope surging through him. Meryl…could she have gotten out before the trilithium wave had been unleashed? Quickly, he lowered to a knee and ripped the panel out of the floor. His keen eyes widened as he saw her there, hunched over a mound of bulking flesh fixed with contrasting metal. She was blinking up at him, trying to focus. His hair was different, but she knew it was him by the way he smiled and reached a hand out for her. Knowing that everything had worked out all right, she sagged over with relief.

"Vash," she whispered, breathing slowly. "I thought…"

"It's all right, Meryl. We're safe…for the time being."

She took his hand and came to his feet. Morgante, who sat with her in the twisting jettison tube, rose easily alongside her, so tall that his head and shoulders came out where Meryl had to strive to and come to her tiptoes to peer over the edge. Vash was impressed that the big man had known where to find her, that he had found his way through the jettison tube, probably from the gateship's command center. Grinning ear to ear, he shook his head and offered Meryl his hand.

She accepted, eyes sparkling. Morgante took her by the waist and lifted her up and out of the jettison tube. She sat there on the edge, looking back and forth from her father to her lover, and shook her head in disbelief. Then, proudly, she took gave Vash's hand a squeeze.

"Vash, I want you to meet my father…Richard."

* * *

The blast of sand and wind and light sent Milly sprawled across the titanium floor, just inside the entrance of the Millennium Arc. For what seemed an eternity the power coursed through the air just overhead, seeming to suck the sound, the very life from the very room. She felt the air being ripped from her lungs. Jet dropped over her, protecting her head from flying debris.

Her head pounded relentlessly, as if her brain was trying to escape the confines of her skull. Her heart raced alongside it, though she that by all rights it should have stopped in the instant the power had been unleashed. She had seen it all once before, but she had not been nearly so close, within a blink of death.

Sometimes she wondered if knowing Vash had at all been worth it to her, and then she would chastise herself for thinking such a thing could at all be possible. Knowing Vash had brought a lot of heartache, but not because he wished such a thing on his friends.

Before she realized it, the air was still again. The light was gone. She thought that somewhere she should be able to hear people groaning, crying out in pain. Somehow, all the world was dead quiet. A thin layer of dust began to settle.

The weight was lifted from her as Jet Black rose to a knee, peering out through the entrance. The blue sky was coated over by a blanket of airborne sand. Gasping for breath, Milly pushed him out of her way and practically lunged to the entrance, forcing her way through the wall that had been melted away by that machine. She spilled over the edge and tumbled out onto the sand.

Her eyes went wide at what she saw.

The earth was shredded all about, no matter what direction she looked. Charred bodies littered the desert for as far as the eye could see. She knew without a doubt that it was over, and the sudden realization sent a sea of tears raining from her eyes. She collapsed there, face-first into the sand, and cried her eyes out.

"Stryker," she mumbled.

Knives had said that the clones would be destroyed by a blast of trilithium radiation. The Angel Arms worked in that way, and he had been out here.

If the clones were all dead, Knives had unleashed the Angel Arm. Or Stryker had. Either way, what did it matter?

A hand touched her shoulder. She nearly gasped in surprise as she shot to her knees. Her hopes soared, but then she saw who had touched her. It was Knives. He peered down to her, an emotionless gaze on his face. His eyes turned then, scanning the carnage all about. "It's over. They destroyed the ones on the inside. And now, Stryker has destroyed the ones on the outside. The army is finished. Quinn is finished."

Milly just sat there, continuing to blubber as she stared up at him. She was still frightened by this tall man, the one who seemed so much like Vash. This man was no more than a killer, she told herself.

"Quit blubbering," Knives grunted. "Get up on your feet and behave like a hero. This day, we are all heroes."

She continued to stare up at him. "But Sean…"

"Is the biggest of heroes," Knives finished, holding out his hand. "And if you don't dry those tears right now, I won't let you see him. He deserves a woman with some backbone."

Milly blinked. "What…what are you talking about?"

"Stop crying and stand up," Knives said gently. "He'll be joining us shortly."

"Sean…isn't dead?"

Knives grinned. "Course not. There he is over there."

Milly turned her eyes quickly to follow the plant-spawn's gaze. Sure enough, a tall man had appeared through the wall of dust. He moved slowly, limping through the carnage. Leaping to her feet, she darted past Knives, arms lifting out toward Sean, a laugh catching in her throat as she ran. Sean paused several paces away, letting her come to him. She leapt into his waiting arms.

Knives turned from them then, continuing on toward the Millennium Arc. He froze there when he found Jet peering at him. Joining the old man were three others who had seemingly just arrived from inside. He grinned. Leaning against the melted doorframe were Vash, Meryl, and Morgante the Warhead. With a shake of his head, he joined the four, peering to each of them in turn.

"Then it's over?" Vash said, watching Knives.

"It's over," Knives replied. He peered down to Meryl, and then up to Vash. "I'm glad you have found what you wanted in this life, my brother."

Vash nodded. "And what about you,Knives? What is it do you want?"

"My future is uncertain, but the beginning is here, in this ship."

Meryl wet her lips, peering up at him. "So, you used the Angel Arm against them?"

"Of course not. Sean did."

"Sean! But…I thought you said the trilithium radiation would kill the clones."

Knives nodded. "That it did."

Meryl blinked. "But Sean is Vash's clone too," she murmured. "Shouldn't…I mean, he's okay, isn't he? He's not going to die?"

"Of course he isn't going to die. He's strong as an ox." Knives smirked. "I told you that the clones were all programmed with an automated destruction sequence. I did not tell you that I had two prototypes that were not."

Vash blinked. "Stryker, and the other one that killed your clone."

Knives nodded. "Yes."

"What's so different about them?" Meryl asked.

"First of all," Vash said gently, "the two prototypes were the only clones created using my DNA."

"What!" Meryl yelled, spinning to face him.

Knives peered to his brother, waiting.

"To program DNA sequencing like that, he would've had to have living tissue, uncontaminated. The only living tissue he had access to was his own. The arm was contaminated by Legato, so after he got what he could and created Stryker and the other clone, he used the technology on himself. The clones were an army of plant-spawn, like we thought…"

"But they were cloned using my DNA," Knives confirmed with a nod of his head. He grinned at his brother, giving him a clap on the shoulder. "Not bad, not bad at all."

"Now that we've got all that worked out," Jet grumbled, though they could tell by the look on his face that the whole situation meant absolutely nothing to him, "let's go get Faye and Ed and figure out what we can do about us."


	56. Chapter Fifty

FIFTY: eternity

"So what're you going to do with us?" Spike asked, hands stuffed into his pockets. He had listened quietly as Knives explained the situation, how he, Faye, Jet, and Ed had been pinpointed across time and space through use of the Millennium Arc, and duplicated in flesh and blood in a world they had never even known to exist. It seemed enough of a stretch that they had thought done that much, but to know that Faye had a link with the people here was mind-boggling in of itself. He hadn't questioned the truth of it. What was there to question? It seemed easier to accept the impossible as truth.

"Nothing that we can do," Knives replied, peering to him out of the corner of his eye. "You are your own person, Spike. But there is something that makes your presence here all the more difficult."

"And what's that?" Jet asked.

"You may not be the flesh and blood Spike Spiegel and Jet Black, but your brain patterns are identical. A permanent cross-dimensional link is required between the Millennium Arc and the point of origin for sufficient neurological functions to sustain life."

Jet peered over to the plant-spawn, frowning. "What does that mean?"

"We brought you here only partially through cloning," Knives said quietly. "Your brain patterns were difficult. You see, its impossible to duplicate brain patterns, but you can transfer them from one place to another."

Spike blinked. "You're saying that physically these aren't our bodies, but they are our brains."

"Yes," Knives replied with a nod. "The matter is cloned, of course, but the pattern of the brain-waves is genuine. And somewhere across time and space your four bodies lie in comatose. Luckily, Rem thought to alter your genetics just enough to make you immune to the trilithium wave. She didn't even tell me she'd done it, but apparently she had."

"So, can you send us back to our real bodies?"

The plant-spawn grinned. "Ah, very good. As a matter of fact, I can." They turned a corner and came, finally, to engineering. Knives held up a hand to silence them. "Quinn is inside. Your lady-friend and the kid, too, Spike. Vash, after you?" He reached out to press the release. Vash drew his sidearm as the door hissed open, and slipped on inside ahead of the others.

What he saw made him freeze in place.

There was Quinn, in the middle of the room, on his hands and knees, slumped down on his face as an enthusiastic and thin red-headed girl of about thirteen years bounced about on his back, throwing her hands wildly into the air and giggling full force. Faye was slumped over in a chair nearby, her face in her hand, twisted in a look of frustratingly painful boredom.

"Ride 'em cowgirl! Edward likes this game, Fossil-person! You can do it!"

Faye groaned, burying her face deeper into her hand. "Somebody shut that dingbat up!"

Vash lowered his gun, grinning ear-to-ear. Quinn didn't look like he was having much fun. At least Edward had things under control. With a shake of his head, he slipped his side-arm into the holster at his hip.

Knives slid over to Quinn, lowering to a knee. "Seems you are under complete control. Impressive."

Edward grinned. "Trilithium wave! Knocked him on his butt!"

Spike frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Vash said gently, that he was weakened by the trilithium."

Knives nodded. "The plant knew what it was doing." He drew a slow breath and grinned over to Vash. "I have a few things to prepare for," he said, interlocking his fingers behind his back. "It'll take time, but I can get you home."

Spike nodded. "All right. You don't have to explain it, just do it."

* * *

"So it's over."

Vash swivelled in his chair, looking up from the viewscreen and saw her. His shoulders sagged with relief at seeing that she had come to him, and that he hadn't had to ask her. He drew a slow breath and gazed up to the image awaiting him, slowly shaking his head. "It's been a long time, Rem. I didn't think it would be possible that I could ever see you again. You know, I mean in more than just my dreams."

"Rem really isn't here," she said, "but I think I know what you mean. Knives gave his all in programming me."

"She is here," Vash replied, touching his heart. "And in my memory. She'll always be inside me. But it's different, having something visual. She really was a pretty woman."

The hologram smiled. "That feels like a compliment."

He grinned. "Well, yeah, for you too."

His heart raced as he watched her, wishing for the billionth time over that he had had just one more chance to have her arms around him in that protective way that he had found so comforting. But that was an impossible dream. It seemed even more distant now, even having her image here next to him. "What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, gazing down at him.

"Eternity," Vash replied, and turned back to the viewscreen.

The two sat there for a time, gazing to the viewscreen. A series of constellations filled the growing darkness as the night drew slowly on. Vash had been in here alone for a long time, away from the others, bringing with him the newfound peace. Already he knew where his life would lead. New Hope seemed a fitting place to start over, a place where no one knew him for the disaster that Knives had shaped his existence.

New Hope was brought peace in more than just its name, Vash thought with a smile.

A hand lay on his shoulder after a time. Vash flinched, turning toward Rem. He hadn't thought that a hologram could be solid, but here she was, touching his arm.

His eyes softened with understanding as he saw that Meryl was standing over him. He hadn't heard her enter the command center, but that didn't matter. Trust, he decided. He decided he was grateful that she could do that to him. It aided in the suspense, the surprise, that a love like they shared deserved. He rested a hand on hers, peering up to her. She looked from him to Rem, and then shook her head slowly. "I can see why she meant so much to you."

He smiled. "You mean just as much to me, you know that. Rem was a special woman, but you are her equal in my heart. You are here, and that means so much to me. I lost her, but I promise, we'll be together forever."

Meryl peered down to him. "Vash, we don't even know if you can die."

He grinned. "Well, if anyone can kill me, it'd be you."

"That's not funny, Vash."

He cupped her hands about her bottom and drew her close, and then into his lap as he kissed her gently. He turned the chair toward the viewscreen. Rem lingered close, watching down on them.

"She would be so proud of you," the hologram said gently.

And then she faded away, leaving the lovers alone.

A little while later the door hissed open. This time Vash heard and they turned from the viewscreen to look at Morgante as he peered into the room.

"It's time."

_

* * *

July 29, Year 131, 3:36 a.m. – They no longer exist in this universe. At least, not as they did when they entered our world. It seems maybe they deserved better than the end as it was. Maybe their real lives will have some sort of closure that they couldn't possibly have had in their fourteen days on Gunsmoke. It was quite the scene there, in the Renaissance room. Knives lay them out naked on steel platforms, with metallic headbands that were connected to the plant, and from there Vash and I watched as their lives were slowly zapped away._

_Knives explained it all, I think. I don't know if it made much sense. He said that he had to cut the flow of the brain-waves and then return them to the point of origin, meaning the real Faye, Jet, Spike, and Ed, back in a world that I've never known, but a world that was the home of my ancestors. I know that much because Earth was the origin of Project SEEDS. Supposedly their brain-waves will return to _

_I think maybe I'll miss them. I didn't know them well, but Jet seemed a good man, and Spike had a ruthless humor about him I think maybe I can relate to. But Faye, I think maybe she was a lot like me. Headstrong, determined. Ruthless in a more subtle, delicate way. For a long time I was dead set on duty. I wrapped myself up in it like a blanket, followed Vash wherever he went, because duty demanded it. Maybe Faye's a lot like that. Faye sought identity. I could see it in her eyes. Maybe that's what I sought, too. In the end, I don't think we really could have anticipated what we eventually found on the other side._

_Maybe Faye will continue to search. I think, though, my search has come to an end. What matters now is Vash and the life he has given me. A fresh start. Meryl has Stryker, too, and I think maybe that'll be enough for her, a missing piece to a broken heart to mend what she lost when Nicholas died._

_What an amazing turn of events. Just a day ago, eternity seemed to be fading to mere hours, with the possibility of ending at a moment's notice. But now eternity has become as it is meant to be._

_The possibilities are boundless, and they begin at New Hope._

_Knives. What of Knives?_

_I think maybe he will find his own peace. He has the Millennium Arc, and he seemed happy there. I don't know what path will decide his fate. I only hope he can find the peace he so deserves. Knowing now how Quinn twisted his life from the very beginning…_

"Do you have to keep doing that? Watching you write is making my head spin."

She lifted her pen from the pages of her journal and cast Vash a sidelong glance. They sat in the back of Quinn's jeep. Stryker drove up front, Milly sleeping soundly as she cuddled close. "I'm putting my thoughts down on paper," she said, slightly peeved at his intrusion.

"And why's that?"

"Because I might not remember what I was thinking a few days down the road. That's what a journal is for, so you can remember moments like these later on. Since I'm not writing reports for Bernardelli anymore, I keep a journal. It keeps me sane."

Vash smiled and looked away. "Well, I think I'd just love to read some of it. You're always writing, but I never know exactly what you're thinking."

"Vash, what could you possibly want to find out from reading my…"

His grin was mischievous. Lowering his voice, he whispered in her ear. "'July 26, Year 131, 6:13 a.m. If looks could burn, this is a man who sends fire through my loins…'"

"Vash!" She gave him a swat with the little book, her face crimson. "Shut up! What are you doing reading my diary, anyway?"

He leaned forward, his smile teasing. "Oh, it's a diary now, is it?"

She flinched when she felt his hand on her. He was stroking her thigh lightly. She was still glowing bright red as she leaned her head against his shoulder. "Well, whatever it is, you can just stop reading it."

"You really think I'm an ox?" he whispered into her ear.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure what an ox is," she whispered back, "but if you don't shut up I'm going to start writing about how everything about you is big except your…"

"Hey! That's an outright lie!"

She grinned. "Vash, we both know the truth. But just so you know, a lot of times journals are used to record history, and their words are generally regarded as fact. So just think about that the next time you get it in your head to go through my things, okay?"

He gave her a look and pulled his hand from her thigh with a slow nod. They sat there for nearly a minute, listening to each other as they breathed softly in the night, listening to the roar of the engine as they headed north and the wind as it rolled gently over the desert. Finally, she reached out and took his hand gently, returning it to her lap. Her eyes sparkled up at him. "When we get back, you and I are going to have to take a very long vacation. Milly and Sean need it too."

"I can think of a few places I'd like to visit," he said, arching his brow.

"Me too," she said gently, rolling her thumbs slowly against his knuckles. She realized her heart was pounding and, as her choice words from the morning of July 26, that he was sending "fire through her loins." She moved his arm up so that he was hugging her and buried herself into his side.

He held her close for a time. His thoughts churned with wonderment at how this girl had come into his life, and now here she was, that she belonged to him and that, in turn, he would always be hers. It lifted his heart up and beyond the stars.

He kissed her head gently. "Meryl?"

"Yeah?"

He wet his lips, shifting so that he was peering down into her eyes as they shimmered back up to him. "Do you really think it's that big?"

Her eyes widened, at first in fear, and then she put her head in a trembling hand and started laughing. She laughed harder than he had seen her laugh in ages, probably harder than he had ever seen her laugh in all the time he had known her. He watched her, puzzled, and waited for her to calm herself. He could see Stryker's eyes in the rearview mirror, saw the cunning smirk on his lips as he peered back. Vash just shrugged and held her tighter.

"Meryl?" he said gently, coaxing her.

She lay against him for the longest time, grinning ear-to-ear as she clung to him. "It's a tough call," she said finally as she dried the tears from her eyes and patted his stomach lightly, "but I think maybe your heart is bigger."


	57. Epilogue

EPILOGUE: john doe

She woke with a start, clutching her chest with a cry of shock as she peered about. She could have sworn that a moment ago her skin had been pressed to freezing metal. Gently, she stroked her fingers over her forehead, but where she thought she felt the light touch of metal against her temples there was nothing but cold sweat. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as she drew her hands slowly down her neck, the front of her, seeking bare flesh. Somehow, she was wearing her own nightgown, and she felt a familiar cold, heard the familiar sounds. Wherever she had been just a moment ago, she was now home.

The _Bebop_. She was in her room onboard the _Bebop_. Something told her that she shouldn't be here, that just a moment ago she had been lost, but now, somehow, she had found her way back. She drew several slow breaths, seeking to calm herself, before rising out of bed. She grabbed a towel and her robe and slipped out into the dark, icy-cold, yet comfortingly familiar corridor.

She trudged slowly through the ship. She paused only briefly to look at the door to Spike's room. For the longest time, she thought of him. What had it been? A month now? He'd gone to face Vicious, and he'd never returned. Dead. He had to be. She knew it.

She headed for the privy, running slender fingers through her hair, damp with sweat. She wondered how long she'd been asleep, because she was exhausted. Still, it had felt like an eternity.

She came to the privy, finally, and reached out to open it. Locked. Rolling her eyes, Faye pounded on the door. "Jet! How long have you been in there!"

"Just a second!" a muffled voice returned heatedly a moment later. She blinked, and then shook her head. What had gotten into her? Jet hadn't done anything to her. She'd just gotten up. She was probably just cranky. With a groan, she leaned back against the bulkhead and waited.

Finally, the door creaked open. Jet stood there, leaning in the doorway, peering up at her through blood-shot slits. There were bags under his eyes. He didn't look well at all.

"God, what happened to you?" she asked wearily.

"Bad dreams," he muttered. "I think. What's your excuse?"

She shrugged. "A little of the same and PMS."

"Shit, what is it with you? Twice a week? I thought it was a monthly thing."

Faye rolled her eyes. "Guess not."

They traded places. Faye was already unbuttoning her nightgown, about ready to shut the door when Jet reached out and stopped her. "Hey, is it just me, or does it seem like you've missed about a dozen meals?"

She paused. "I feel like I've been out of it for three days."

"That's what I thought." They were quiet for a few minute, looking at one another, waiting. Finally he shrugged. "All right. I'll go fix a big breakfast."

Faye nodded. "Sounds great," she said as she closed the door. Quickly, she stripped out of her clothes for a shower. She felt really dirty. Every bit of her ached fiercely. She rubbed herself gently, wondering why it felt as though someone had stabbed her with a spoon.

_Hell no. You stick your prick here. Then you fuck her brains out._

Faye shuddered at the words that flooded, unbidden, into her thoughts. She let go of her crotch and hugged herself tight, leaning against the door, and sliding to the floor to cry.

* * *

Jet paused long enough in the kitchen to sit down and turn on the television. He sat down at the couch, leaning over the coffee table to peal potatoes to make hashbrowns, when he saw the date flash on the screen just prior to a news bulletin.

August 14.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Jet started to rise to his feet. He blinked, feeling the nervous shudder race through his insides.

He looked up to the daily calendar on the wall.

August 11. He had just pulled the tenth off that morning.

"What the hell…"

He turned slowly away from the wall and eyed the television again.

"A typhoon has swept away all that remained of the little Earth town of Bowden's Bay this morning…"

Typhoon. The word echoed through the old man's head. Leaning forward, he tried to figure out what was creating the pounding headache.

* * *

Darby, head nurse of Jack Ryan Memorial Hospital on Mars, tucked John Doe gently into his fresh sheets. She peered up to the man with a shake of her head, a broad grin on her lips.

She'd never seen a miracle before. Now she was quite certain she had lived one.

The doctors couldn't explain it. Three days ago, John Doe had been declared clinically brain dead when his brain-wave monitor had flatlined. They had only left him on life support because they were still seeking John Doe's true identity, searching for any family that they might be able to reach. There was none, of course. No one knew anything about him. Who he was, where he had come from. Whoever he was, there were no definite answers.

He was simply John Doe, and to Darby, one of her most popular patients.

He'd been dumped, bleeding and dying on steps of the hospital only four weeks ago. He was a mystery and Darby enjoyed mysteries.

Though she longed to see him live again. That his mind was working again after a three-day hiatus was just one part of the miracle of life. If only he would open his eyes and tell her who he was. That would be all the miracle she would ever need…

Whoever he was, she wanted to know him through-and-through, not just by some generic name granted to him by the hospital.

Running her fingers delicately through his thick hair, Darby smiled. She touched a damp cloth to his lips, rose to her full height to admire him, and then slipped silently from the room.

* * *

And that, my friends, is the end. I wanted to bring more to the ending, to tell you the truth, but I found that every time I tried to bring the characters together one final time, I struggled to keep each thought continuous. Too much jumping around. And so, instead of a final Interlude with Meryl, I came up with an ending that I found heart-warming and humorous, plus it set the stage for the sequel to come, whenever it comes. The epilogue would have been more, as well, but I found just wasn't sure I liked it, so I cut it back to the original, open-ended form.

And with all endings comes my part of the tale: the shameless promotion. :D

Anyway, I'm looking forward to continuing on with this story in two branches, both from the Bebop side and, of course, from the Trigun angle. I've already posted the prologue to my Bebop follow-up, titled Exodus. If you hadn't already guessed, the story takes place after the final confrontation between Spike and Vicious at the syndicate HQ.

The Trigun follow-up is in a stage of plot-development and will be titled Trigun Destinies. I don't know when I'll be posting this story. Right now it's tough enough to find time for Exodus. I can only hope _Vash vs. Spike_ has peeked your interest.


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